


Falling

by ThisWasInevitable



Series: Falling [1]
Category: TAZ Amnesty - Fandom, The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mothman, Romance, Slow Burn, TAZ Amnesty, character injury, dani/aubrey is mostly backgrounf, flirtation, indruck, well kind of as I am not patient
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-17 02:32:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16966047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisWasInevitable/pseuds/ThisWasInevitable
Summary: Duck Newton falls. Literally. And that's just the beginning of his troubles.





	1. It's Not the Fall.....

Duck Newton is falling.

One moment he was facing an abomination, the next he felt the dirt of the cliff-side crumble under his heels, then his toes. Now all he can see are the stars getting further and further away. 

He’s tough. He’s fallen before, been thrown through the air and landed and been alright. But he’s taken a hell of a beating from this thing, and he’s still not sure what the loss of Minnie's home means for his ability to slam into things and get back up again. The odds of this ending well are slim, no matter which way he looks at it. 

A breeze pushes up against him, as if the air is trying to buoy him back up, and he realizes that Aubrey is trying to save him. It’s not enough, the breeze barely even slows him down and for one second he feels bad knowing that Aubrey will blame herself for what’s about to happen to him. Still feels worse for himself though.

Something crashes into him from behind and darkness begins enveloping him. As the stars get dimmer the roar of the air in his ears is replaced by something heavy and foreign, a rhythmic noise he can’t place. His perspective shifts and he can see the cliff-top he was atop only moments ago. He registers that he’s not plummeting anymore, but still moving in the air. The sudden change in position, the speed, the pain force his eyes shut and then the world is gone. But as it goes, he swears he hears Aubrey exclaim in the distance:

“Holy shit!”

\-------

He’s in Hell.

That is the only possible explanation for how hot it is and why there’s an orange glow creeping through his eyelids. He’s still on his back, must’ve been how he landed when he fell, and now he’s about to wake up in Hell. 

Trying to open his eyes sends pain shooting across his temples. He doesn’t try again, decides to shift onto his side and curl up. He’s dead,and in spite of trying to do good, to help his friends, in spite of not being able to lie worth a damn he still ended up here and he’s going to take just a moment to roll into a ball and feel sorry for himself. 

He rolls over and his face smushes into fabric. Musty, dusty fabric that smells vaguely familiar. 

With more effort than he cares to admit he eases an eye open, sees the arm of a couch with a tall glass peeking over it. Lifting his head a bit more, he can see the glass contains white liquid speckled with tiny bits of brown. 

Either they serve eggnog in Hell or…..

“You’re awake.”

He jolts, tries to spin to look behind him and instantly regrets it. 

“Ow, sonuvabitch!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Another peril of always being always just ahead of everyone else is occasionally forgetting surprise is, well, a thing.”

The lanky frame of Indrid Cold settles onto the arm of the couch, cup of eggnog in one hand. He’s as tousled looking as usual, the only change being the giant argyle sweater in place of his normal shirt. 

“Then again, it does help me know when a forest ranger might be plummeting to his death.” He smiles, in a way that (probably) isn’t meant to be as unnerving as it is. The light from the innumerable space heaters glints off his glasses, the sole reminder that he’s a creature capable of snatching humans out of the air.

Duck wants to say thank you, but the pain keeps flitting across his body in a way that makes it hard to think about anything else. He’s about to ask for painkillers when Indrid opens his other hand to offer two small, white pills. Duck takes both, and the proffered glass of nog, and gulps them down. 

As he waits for them to kick in, he notices Indrid is wearing flannel pajama pants and idly thinks that it would be nice to just lay his head down on them, right in the other mans’ lap. The height’s about right, with him slumped on the couch and Indrid sitting on the arm. Be nice and warm, he bets. 

Where the hell did that thought come from?

He looks up, terrified that Indrid read his mind somehow (yeah, he knows that’s not how the guys’ powers work but it sure feels like it sometimes) to see the other man staring placidly off into the middle distance. The hand not holding the mug reaches back to a drawing on a nearby table, plucks it up, then crumples it into a ball. 

“I’ll let you rest more. Then I’ll need to have another look at your injuries. I don’t currently foresee a timeline where you have to go to the hospital for them, but it can’t hurt.” 

Indrid stands, picks up another drawing, crumples it. Repeats the same motion a few more times as he walks towards the back of the trailer. Duck dearly wants to go back to sleep, but there’s a question he wants to ask even more than that.

“I thought you”

“Left” Indrid says it along with him, and his gaze settles back on Duck.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I felt my time in Kepler was not yet completed. I saw so too. Plus, I wanted to say thank you. For saving me, in your somewhat unorthodox way. I know it came with a cost.” He gestures to Beacon, curled on Duck’s wrist. 

“Yeah, sorry about the punchin' your glasses off bit. Suppose we’re kind of even now, what with you keepin' me from turnin' to mush at the bottom of a cliff.”

“I suppose so, yes. Though I will say, Duck, I was coming for you no matter what.”

With that, he steps backwards and slides the door closed. 

\--------  
“He got carried off by a what now?” Mama raises an eyebrow at the remainder of the Pine Guard as they sit in their meeting room under the lodge.

“By Mothman. Well, by Indrid. Who is also Mothman.” Aubrey flicks a small fire from hand to hand, anxiously, as Mama rubs her temples with a sigh.

“At least we know he’s with someone friendly, right?” Ned offers, rubbing a large bruise forming on his cheek. They’d destroyed the abomination, but not before it did it’s fair share of damage. 

“I wish I could say we did. And I sure as hell wish y’all’d told me sooner that Indrid was helpin' y’all with that last mission.” 

“You think Indrid might hurt Duck?” Aubrey begins tossing the flame more frantically until Mamas’ hand comes to rest on her shoulder. 

“I ain’t sayin' that exactly, no. Just that I’ve never fully trusted Indrid and I’d rather get Duck back here so we can look after him. Do either of you know where we can find him?”

“Well sure, he’s in the RV campsite. The low-rent one. He’s got a real nice looking Winnebago, and last time we were out there it was the only vehicle around.” Only Ned could sound so excited about a trailer. 

Mama picks her duster off the back of a chair, and it gives a dramatic “swoosh” as she puts it on. 

“Barclay and I will go find them and bring Duck back here. Or to the hospital, if it comes to that. You two stay here and rest up.”

Two hours later, Aubrey is flopped on her bed, her nose pressed up against the wiggling, white nose of Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD. Dani sits next to her, scritching the rabbit behind the ears while placing the Ace of Spades on his back. Ned had gone back into town to, “meet with an old friend,” so the two girls had tried to occupy themselves with a game of cards, which devolved into card tricks, which eventually became a competition to see how many cards they could stack in Dr. Harris Bonkers, PhD before he noticed and shook them off (the record so far was 31). 

“I wish Mama wasn’t so secretive sometimes, you know?” Aubrey sighs, booping the bun on the nose. 

“I can’t say I like it much either, but I guess she has her reasons. Up until you three showed up it had been just her and Barclay looking after the lodge for at least a year or two. I think she feels responsible for all of us and hasn’t realized that she’s got other people who can help her out now. I mean, why else would she call herself 'mama'?”

“Yeah, I get that. It’s just, there have been so many things in my life that never quite made sense. And when I met Mama some of them started to get clearer and fall into place and then it’s like she just piled more questions and secrets on top of them and then refused to talk about any of it. I’m worried that one day I won’t know what I need to know in time, and someone will get hurt because of it.” She rolls onto her back, the upside down faces of Dani and Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD looking down at her, each gentle in it’s own way. Dani reaches down a hand to brush stray wisps of hair out of Aubrey’s eyes before cupping her cheek.

“You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit, Aubrey Little. You handle chaos and weird shit better than anyone I know, including Mama.”

Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD, perks both his ears up and turns them towards the footsteps coming down the hallway. A moment later, there’s a cursory knock before Mama pokes her head in. She smiles at Dani before opening the door all the way. Behind her, Aubrey sees Barclay. His poker face is nowhere near as good as Mamas’, so she knows something is wrong before the older woman speaks. 

“Well, the good news is that we found the trailer park y’all told us about. The bad news is it’s empty. Mothman flew the coop.”


	2. ...It's the Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck and Indrid get a bit intimate, but not in the way you're thinking.

Duck stands at the trailer window, still groggy after his few hours of fitful sleep. Even through the tinted glass, something feels off. Poking his head out the door confirms his worries; they’re still in the Monogahela National Forest, he can tell that much from the species of trees surrounding the trailer, but they’re nowhere near the RV campground where they’re supposed to be.

He shuts the door, shuddering from the cold, and turns in time to see his host padding into the room.

“Hey, Indrid, where”

“The fuck are we?” Indrid finishes

“Took the words right out of my mouth.”

“We’re much deeper in the forest than campers are usually allowed. But there happens to be an old utilities hook-up from a long-gone ranger outpost here. As for why we’re here, all I can say for now is that it looked to be the safest of the options.” He stretches out his arms with a yawn, and it’s only then Duck notices the fuzzy pink bathrobe. 

“Now, to more urgent matters: we need to see if your injuries have improved.” He plunks down on the couch, lightly patting the spot next to him. Duck hobbles over, blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He doesn’t really need it, given how damn hot it is in the trailer, but it makes him feel secure. Maybe it’s a side effect of having one near-death experience too many, like he’s reverting back to being a kid hiding under the covers.

He sits next to Indrid, who proceeds to pull a flashlight out of the pocket of his robe. Duck raises an eyebrow.

“I’ve been studying humans a long time, Duck. And, sadly, I’ve seen the aftermath of enough disasters to see how you check each other for harm. That and I read a lot of books. Mostly old medical and technical manuals I find in the recycling” He reaches out a hand, placing it lightly under Duck’s chin to lift it up. 

“Sooo, what you’re saying is that you’re not a doctor.”

“Not in the slightest.”

The flashlight clicks on, and Indrid tracks it across Duck’s vision. He assumes the other man is checking him for a concussion, but their positions mean he has nothing to do but study the details of Indrids face, the places where it seems to mesh old features with young ones, the sharper angles and the softer curves. The warmth from the space heaters must be getting to him more, as he feels awfully hot at that moment. 

Indrid clicks the light off and drops his hands back into his lap. 

“Well, you don’t appear to have a concussion, but I’m sure you have wounds on the rest of you. I didn’t treat them when we first returned because it seemed rude to remove your clothing without permission. But there’s definitely blood.” He points to two separate stains on Duck’s chest and stomach, and Duck realizes he must have been truly out of it to not notice them before. Then again, having a giant moth grab him out of the sky did such a number on him that he can see how maybe smaller sources of pain might have fallen by the wayside. As he examines the rest of his clothes for blood or cuts, Indrid slides the blanket from his shoulders and then makes an odd lifting gesture with his right hand. It takes Duck an embarrassingly long time to realize that he’s being asked to take off his jacket and shirt.

He slips the jacket off and hands it to Indird, who almost tosses it on the floor before thinking better of it and folding it (extremely sloppily) and placing it next to where Duck’s hat is resting on the floor at the foot of the couch. He turns back, expectantly.

“Ain’t you gonna buy a guy a drink first?” 

“Perhaps another time, when he isn’t bleeding.”

Duck blushes and, to cover it, begins lifting his shirt. It gets halfway up his torso before the movement of his arms sends a spike of pain into his back. Before he can ask for help, Indrid leans forward, gingerly slips his fingers under the hem, and pulls it the rest of the way off. Duck is abruptly, painfully aware of how pale he looks, even next to Indrid, and all the ways that a life of intermittent hero training has failed to sculpt his body into a desirable shape. This was rapidly becoming the worst twenty-four hours of his life. 

“As you seem to have a cut in left thigh, you’ll need to lose the pants as well.”

Yep, definitely on track for the worst. 

“While you do that, I’ll grab some Band-Aids and Bactine.”

As soon as Indrid turns his back, Duck scrambles to get his pants off. The only thing worse than Indrid seeing the bulk of his naked body is Indrid seeing him flail around while he de-clothes. 

By the time Indrid returns, Duck is back on the couch in the position he’s determined feels the least awkward and compromising: legs crossed, arms crossed, hunched over and staring at the floor. The couch dips slightly as Indrid sits next to him. 

“You’ve got a large scratch on your back, so if you just turn a bit I can get it bandaged." Duck obliges and shudders when he feels a warm washcloth touch his back. The sit in silence for a moment as Indrid works.

“Do you have family Duck?”

“Yeah, got a sister, but you already knew I was goin' to say that before I finished sayin' it.”

“Well, yes.”

“Don’t that get borin'?”

“At times. But that doesn’t mean I can’t have pleasant conversations. Besides, I rather enjoy talking to you. You’re interesting and sometimes even surprising, not to mention quite funny.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

Another silence, then,

“What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever seen while on ranger duty?”

“Once saw a fella get stuck in a bear box.”

Indrid laughs, which Duck takes as a cue to keep talking. As he tells one story, then another, Indrid finishes dressing the cut on his back, then hands Duck the supplies so he can patch up his chest and leg. He nods and laughs, sometimes even at the right moment, and Duck notices that his gaze never shifts into that weird far-away look.

Finished, Duck hands what’s left of the medical supplies back to Indird, but as the other man stands he pauses, then sits back down. 

“There’s a scrape on your forehead we missed. Just a moment.” He hurriedly moves to clean it, not noticing that he’s nearly in Ducks' lap in the process of doing so. Duck, on the other hand, is keenly aware not only of the hand on his forehead, but the other hand on his knee and the knee that is resting quite a ways up his thigh. 

Indrid sits back on his heels looking pleased. 

“Now that we’re done, I’ll grab us some celebratory nog while you get dressed.” If he notices the fact that Duck has only now started breathing again, he doesn’t say anything. 

Once he’s put back together, Duck joins Indrid at the table. Indrid has started scribbling on a piece of paper. He pauses to look at the drawing, looks up at Duck, then back down, then crumples the paper up and tosses it as far away as possible. 

“Thanks for helpin' me clean up and stuff. There’s lots of ways I’d prefer not to die, but ‘infection from tiny scratch’ has to be the most embarrassing one after, I dunno, slippin' on a Banana peel or some kind of vape accident. But don’t think I haven’t noticed you dodgin the question of why we’re all the way out here.” 

Indrid looks up, taken aback, then sighs. 

“I suppose there’s no harm in telling you sooner rather than later. I brought you out here for your safety, because there’s another abomination, on that you all may have missed. And worse than that, this one has a very specific purpose: it’s after you, Duck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Duck does some ruminating, Indrid does some denial, Aubrey and Dani do some scheming, and Jake does some rabbit watching.


	3. The Best Laid Plans of Moths and Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is catching feelings. It's fine. It's totally fine.

Indrids' words take a moment to register before sending Duck’s heart straight into his gut. 

“Why me?” 

“I’m not entirely sure, but I’ve narrowed it down to two likely explanations: something has identified the Pine Guard as a threat, and misidentified you as the person in charge. The other is that you’re a Chosen One; have you ever heard of a chosen one who didn’t have some arch enemy or a dark force out to get them?”

“Can’t say any are comin to mind.”

“Precisely. I think there is a very good chance that this other abomination, either of it’s own will or the will of someone else, is out to destroy you. That’s the bad news.”

“I’m not sure if I want to know if there’s good news.”

“The good news is that as far as I can tell, it’s only interested in you. Aubrey, Ned, and all the others are safe from this particular menace.”

“And you moved me this far into the woods”

“To keep you safe” Indrid finishes. He’s scribbling again, absentmindedly. 

“The week window isn’t up yet, which means the creature can’t move outside a certain radius. We are well outside that radius, which I’m hoping gives us time and space to plan well past when the week does run out. I’m sure Aubrey and the others can figure out what’s happened.”

“That’s awful optimistic.”

“Perhaps. But what the Pine Guard lacks in finesse they make up for in ingenuity.” He looks at his new drawing, frowns, and tosses it away. Smiles a bit too wide. 

“Ain’t there any way we can tell them where we are?”

“If it comes down to it we can go to the lodge to bring them up to speed. I’d rather not, as that might draw this abomination and endanger all of you. I’d also prefer to avoid Agent Stern. Well I know he’s technically after Bigfoot, a Mothman can’t be too careful.” Indrid runs his hand through his hair nervously, and Duck is about to ask if there’s something else to worry about when his stomach rumbles. 

“Um, please tell me you have somthin to eat here besides nog?”

“Oh, of course! When this version of the future began showing up more frequently, I made preparations just to be safe.” He jumps up and throws open a cabinet, revealing stacks of top ramen, powdered soup, crackers, and something in cans Duck can’t quite place. 

“I also have some cheese and stuff in the fridge.”

“Do you seriously eat nothing but eggnog?”

“Not quite.” He opens another cabinet revealing far too many packages of Capri Sun, Kool-Aid, and a variety of other hyper-sugary drinks.

“Technically a moth, remember? I prefer things that are as close as possible to nectar. I mean, I can eat other stuff. But I like this best.” He grabs a Capri Sun and sticks a straw in it, before offering one to Duck.

“Naw, thanks, I’ll just help myself to some ramen.”

A half hour or so passes at the two of them maneuver around each other in the tiny kitchen. Indrid goes through six more drinks, and Duck wonders if Leo has any spare Slushie machines he could install in the trailer. 

He wants to keep talking with Indrid, but he can feel himself fading again, the pain flaring back up and his eyelids drooping. 

“I’m gonna go try and sleep some more. Thanks for, uh, playin host for me.” He’s not sure what else to say, so he defaults to what he always does when the appropriate emotional response for a situation escapes him: he hugs. 

Indrid freezes for a moment, before wrapping his arms around Duck and resting his head on his shoulder. He makes a small humming noise, and for a second Duck doesn’t want to let go. He eventually does, stepping back awkwardly with a quick ‘goodnight’ before high-tailing it towards the couch (as much as he can high-tail it in his current state). 

\--------

An hour or so later, Indrid is in bed and unable to sleep at all. Every time he shuts his eyes he sees the same timeline variations he’s been seeing the last few days; he and Duck curled up on the couch, he and Duck walking arm and arm in the woods, he and Duck a tangle of limbs on the bed.   
That last one has been particularly prevalent. If he’s being totally honest, it hasn’t solely appeared as a prophecy either. He’s thought about it, and about the one with kissing, a lot. 

Duck is charming, in his way, and can’t lie worth a damn, he’s warm when he hugs and has some pleasant soft places on his body that Indrid noticed as he was bandaging him up. When he talks, Indrid finds it easier to let the prophecies, the dozens of televisions playing in his mind go a little quieter.

He’s been frantically crumpling up or hiding any drawings that show him and Duck together in a romantic way. Not because he’s ashamed. Because he’d hate it if Duck somehow decided to like him out of a sense of duty to the future or a feeling of inescapability. He wants Duck to like him for his own reasons. Goodness knows the man has had enough of his life dictated by fate. 

Not to mention, Indrid is only somewhat human. What kind of person wants to date someone who’s also a giant moth? Be with someone who spends so little time around humans that he forgets to shower or clean (he needs to shower in the morning, he wants to smell nice for Duck, and he’s past trying to deny that)? Love someone who’s associated with death and disaster. 

Duck, with his lopsided smile and intriguing mismatched eyes, who loves the forest and has the kind of heart that means he bandages goat minions instead of beheading them, deserves someone who can help him watch trees (Indrid thinks that is what rangers do) and play with that strange cat of his. Someone he can kiss. Oh yes, kissing would most definitely be pleasant. 

Indrid is so deeply, irrevocably, screwed. 

\------

Duck is so,so screwed.

He’s been tossing and turning on the couch for an hour, trying to get comfortable. It’s not just his injuries that keep that from happening; it’s the fact that every time he closes his eyes he pictures Indrid and feels the sensation of wrapping his arms around him. Worse, one of the few parts of his body not in terrible pain keeps threatening to wake up at the idea of what Duck could do besides hug the taller man. 

Indrid is his friend, and also sort of under his protection (as all the residents Kepler are, he supposes). He’s just being kind to Duck, helping out a pal in need. Who cares if he’s got a face that makes Duck feel like a teenager again and understands why Duck likes a job that keeps him alone so much? Duck’s past his prime anyway, hasn’t had a date in years. Indrid deserves to be out with some attractive, weird Sylph or an equally attractive human. 

Duck can just ignore it, he’ll be fine. It’ll be totally fine.

Yeah, and maybe hell will freeze over.

\----

The next afternoon, Aubrey and Dani are sharing a pool in the hots springs behind the lodge. Aubrey’s suit is retro-ish one piece, with boy shorts and flames up the side that she loves because it matches her usual style. Dani is in a more classic black bathing suit and Aubrey is not being nearly as subtle in her staring as she thinks she is. She left Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD, with Jake who, last she saw the two of them, had put a pair of snow goggles on the rabbit and was parading him around while shouting “look who’s ready for the bunny slopes.” 

Aubrey stares at the horizon, lost in thought, when Dani nudges her arm.

“Hey, what if we went back to where Duck fell and see if we can figure out where he and Indrid are based on where you saw Indrid fly off to after he grabbed him?”

“That’s a great idea! We can get Ned to drive us out there. You’re a genius!” Aubrey, caught up in the moment, leans forward and kisses Dani on the nose. Dani laughs and returns the gesture and Aubrey is suddenly far, far too hot to be in the warm water anymore. 

“C’mon, let’s go tell Ned. Race you to the lobby!”

They sprint along, laughing, before Aubrey skids to a stop.

“Oh, crap, let me grab Dr Harris Bonkers.”

They find Jake in a big chair in the lobby, waxing his board while Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD, nibbles something happily in his lap. 

“Hey dudes! Aubrey, this little dude loves those pieces of paper you have in your room.”

“Jake, that’s flash paper.” All three look at down at the rabbit, who sneezes with a small puff of smoke and a few sparks. 

“I...guess he’s fine. Thanks for watching him.” Someone clears their throat, and Dani and Aubrey turn to see Agent Stern standing behind them. 

“Afternoon ladies. Aubrey, I was hoping to talk to your friend Duck. He’s in the forest so often, and is by himself so much, that I believe he can assist me with my investigation into Bigfoot. Do you know where I can find him?”

“He’s out of town! Definitely out of town! He said he needed a break and wanted to get away for awhile.” Aubrey’s voice is relatively calm, but the fire in the fireplace flares just a bit. 

“I see. Well, do you know when he’ll be..” before he can finish, Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD, hops onto the floor and sneezes again. A few sparks catch on Agent Sterns’ coat and it begins to smoke.

“Erm, excuse me, I need to go put my clothing out.” The agent makes a brisk retreat as Jake, Dani, and Aubrey look down at culprit. Aubrey smiles.

“Good bunny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you rabbit eats flash paper, please take them to the vet. 
> 
> Next up: Two ding-dongs try to make soup, and three friends make a very weird discovery.


	4. Oft Go Awry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An abomination is sighted, and things get hot in the kitchen.

The cliff side is a lot less terrifying in the daylight. The view from it is striking, looking out onto the river below and miles of snow-capped trees. Aubrey takes a moment to enjoy it, Danis’ arm looped through her own, before turning her attention to the compass in her hand. She's used one before, she swears she has. 

“Okay, I think he went that way, which is Northeast? Right?” Dani nods

“Ned, what’s that direction?”

“More forest.” Ned grumbles, stepping up next to them with a crumpled map in his hands. 

“Any, like, campgrounds or anything? Look out stations? Cabins?”

“I can’t tell, I didn’t bring my reading glasses.” 

Aubrey smacks her forehead with groan. Dani reaches into her coat, pulling out a pen.

“Let’s make some notes on there and then review it more at the lodge. I’m freezing.” Ned takes the pen, begins scribbling, as Aubrey pulls Dani closer. 

A snap from behind them sends all three spinning around. 

Fifteen feet away is an abomination, misshapenly humanoid and eight feet tall, an oozing green-black tar covering the whole of it. Ned draws his Narf Blaster as Aubrey steps in front of Dani, hand outstretched preparing to light this thing the fuck up. 

The abomination regards them for a moment seeming to scan each face, then turns and moves back into the forest, leaving the a confused tableau behind it. 

“Ned?”

“Yeah?”

“That wasn’t the same abomination we just fought, right?”

“Nope.”

“We’re going to have to tell Mama about this, aren't we?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Fuck.”

\-------

Where does Indrid get all this stuff?

Duck has found a stack of VHS tapes, a pile of DVDs, outdated newspapers, a random assortment of books, and fifteen slippers, none of which match. And that’s before he even gets to the six hundred million crumpled up drawings. He needs to buy the man a recycling bin. 

Indrid, for his part, has spent the morning tidying. At least, that’s what Duck assumes he’s doing. He keeps picking up stale mugs of nog, arranging and rearranging the stacks of ramen in the cabinets, and throwing drawings under the couch. He’s also positive Indrid washed his hair, as every time he walks past there’s a smell of...vanilla? With some kind of fruit? Duck’s never been one for having a wide knowledge of grooming products. 

Still, this is most pleasant day he’s had in a long time. Indrid seems content to sit next to him and sketch while Duck reads a book of nature essays he found under the sink, or ask Duck questions no one’s asked in a long time. He’s also more than happy to tell Duck about his travels, including his mishaps with tourists, photographers, and low flying airplanes. The only awkward moment comes when Duck realizes he needs changes of clothes, and they spend thirty minutes trying to find something in the piles inside Indrids’ closet that fits. Which is how he ends up in the sweater Indrid had on yesterday and sweatpants with tiny deer on them. 

The sweatpants are a tad form fitting. He refuses to believe that is the reason Indrid keeps glancing at him whenever his back is turned. 

It’s the early evening when he looks up to see Indrid bouncing up and down on his heels, peering into one of the kitchen cabinets. 

“If you could eat anything for dinner right now, what would it be?” He voice is muffled.

“Ummm, french onion soup?”

Indird whirls around proudly, holding out a packet of soup mix with a gigantic smile on his face.

“You knew I was going to say that, didn’t you?” 

“Foresight has its benefits. I have the rest of the ingredients too, to make a genuine french onion soup!” He rifles through the rest of the kitchen, chucking a variety of food items (not all of which are even remotely related to french onion soup) onto the table. 

Duck makes his way over to the table, still limping quite a bit. Indrids’ hands are clasped excitedly in front of him. 

“This is going to be so fun, I almost never cook things! So, where do we start?”

“Uhhhhhhh.”

“You’ve never made this before either, have you?”

“I mean, technically, well, fuck, kind of, I mean, a few years ago, fuck. No.”

They stare at the pile on the table. Indrid shrugs.

“I’m sure we can figure it out.”

Getting the soup started is the easiest part, but their movements in the kitchen soon become a deeply uncoordinated dance. 

“Right, so we need to grate some cheese. You got a cheese grater?”

“Yes. No, not in the drawers, it’ll be in the fridge. This needs croutons, yes?”

“Yup. Uh, Indrid, this nog next to the cheese is a year old.”

“It’s still good. I know I had some croutons here.. Ah! Here they are.”

“Those are cheez-its oh, shit, the pot is boiling over”

“Got it. Now, I believe bread is also involved. I have some on top of the fridge.”

“ I see it, it’s, yup, it’s Wonderbread. This’ll be interesting if nothin' else. Can you go ahead and grate this cheese over the soup.”

“On it! It smells...good?”

“Indrid.”

“I mean, I don’t entirely know how this is supposed to smell, but this seems right.”

“Indrid.”

“Wait, when do I put the croutons in?”

“INDRID!”

“Yes?”

“Sleeve of your robe’s on fire.”

“Shit!”

A flurry of sounds as Duck frantically slaps a towel across Indrids arm to put out the flame and the smoke alarm makes its presence known, causing Indrid to wave a nearby paper plate in front of the alarm to shut it off. When the chaos ceases, he and Duck are facing each other, Ducks’ hand holding his as he finishes smothering the fire. 

Were they this close when Duck started?

Indrids pulse flutters under his fingers, and he catches himself running his thumb along the taller mans’ wrist. Indrid’s gaze follows the path of his thumb, and as it does Duck realizes he’s been looking at Indrids’ mouth, wondering what it would feel like to run his thumb against that instead. Indrid looks up just as Duck drops his hand and stares with a great deal of interest at the product of their soup adventure. 

Indrid picks at the burnt part of his robe. “Would you like to watch something with dinner? I have a selection of movies, and a few T.V shows that I liked enough to record.”

“Sure, that’d be nice.”

Indrid carries the bowls over to the couch as Duck sifts through the piles of tapes and DVDs, selecting season one of Planet Earth. 

The T.V crackles to life as the two of them take up their spots on the couch. Duck takes a bite of soup, It’s not the worst thing he’s ever tasted, though Indrid appears to be munching away happily. He’ll have to take him to The Grill once this whole abomination-sent-to-take-him-and-only-him-out thing blows over, show him how glorious french onion soup can be.

They make it through episodes on oceans, tundras, and rainforests before Duck starts nodding off. David Attenborough is saying something about the mating dances of Grebes as he slips all the way into sleep. He slumps over, head landing softly against Indrids chest. Indrid hums and slowly moves his arm so that it’s looped ever-so-carefully over Ducks’ shoulders, uses the other hand to stroke Ducks’ hair, taking care to not touch the variety of scrapes and bruises still dotting his face. 

\------

It’s a fucking vision. Duck can tell it’s a fucking vision and there’s a car coming very fast towards him. The headlights fill his sight and he braces for the impact. 

He jolts awake. The bed under him is soft and bit downy, and he nestles down into it, relieved. 

Wait a sec.

He fell asleep on a couch. 

He spreads his hand across the surface underneath him. It feels a little bit like feathers. It’s also moving up and down ever so slightly. 

Sitting up a bit, it becomes clear that both he and Indrid feel asleep on the couch, and in the process of coming out of his vision, he knocked Indrids' glasses on the floor. Meaning he is now half asleep on top of a very, very large, Mothman. 

It’s not as alarming as the first time he saw Indrid in this form, the size not as intimidating when it’s functionally making a bed for him. The mandibles are still pretty frightening. 

He spies the red glasses on the floor, considers picking them up. But he’s so tired, and Indrid is so warm and comfy like this, and he feels safe and as he studies the patterns on one of the wings the other one, previously resting on the back of the couch, flops on top of him and it’s like the best blanket he’s ever been wrapped in. 

He drifts off again, promises himself they’ll talk about this in the morning if it comes to that. 

Tomorrow, he swears it.

Even the trees know he’s lying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: The Pine Guard gets more bad news and Indrid does some research.


	5. Kiss Me Like a Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Pine Guard makes a plan. Duck and Indrid have a movie marathon.

“You’re tellin' me there’s another damn abomination runnin' around the woods?” Mama looks tired, sips her tea before continuing.

“That plus us bein' down a man strikes me as too much of a coincidence. I don’t where Indrid took Duck, and I don’t why, but I will bet my life that he knows about this.”

“Maybe he’s keeping Duck safe. Like, he saw something about the abomination and is trying to stay ahead of it.” Aubrey offers. They’re seated around a table in the room under the lodge, Ned sitting on one side of Aubrey and Dani on the other, while Barclay and Jake sit on the other side with Mama. Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD, sits in Aubreys’ lap and is the only unworried creature in the room. 

“I sure hope you’re right. What don’t make sense is why it didn’t even bother with you three when you went out to that ravine. Abominations aint known for bein' discernin' in who they attack.”

“Then maybe Aubrey’s hypothesis is correct and then some; maybe this one is looking for Duck and holds no malice towards the rest of us.” Ned taps his finger against his long-cooled mug of tea.

“That still don’t get us much closer to findin' the two of them.”

“Actually, Mama, this is gonna sound weird, but I think I might be able to. The last few days, every time I’m just sort of zoning out or talking or thinking or whatever, I keep finding myself facing the same direction whenever I stop and pay attention. I even kept the compass with me yesterday to make sure I wasn’t imagining it. I’m not.” Aubrey fidgets with the small flame in her hand. Dani perks up.

“What if it’s your eyes? Or whatever made your eye change when you touched the crystal? Maybe it makes other pieces of the same stuff a homing beacon for you. If Indrid still has his necklace, that could be what you’re being drawn towards.”

Aubreys’ eyes widen and Ned lets out a small cheer. Even Mama looks impressed. Barclay clears his throat. 

“Not to dampen the excitement, but we’ve got one other problem. I got jumpy and had Ned steal Agent Sterns’ notebook, just to see if he’s at all close to figuring, well, everything, out. I made a copy of a few pages so Ned could put the thing back and, well, you all should look at this.” He reaches into the front pocket of his shirt, pulls out a paper, and unfolds it. There are various names written on it, with notes to go with each one. He taps his finger on Ducks’ name

'Duck Newton: Male, forties. Works as forest ranger, fairly solitary. Often seems nervous when speaking to me. N.C and A.L seem oddly protective of him, is friends with both. Bear-like in certain ways. Large chunks of unaccounted for time, ostensibly in forest doing job but no one can corroborate. Most likely candidate as of now.'

“He..thinks Duck is Bigfoot. That is just too delightful!”

“Ned.” Mama warns. 

“But this is a good thing! It means Barclay is in the clear, even if Stern has figured out that Bigfoot has a way to disguise himself as a human.”

“It also means if we bring Duck back here he’s liable to get cornered. And he can’t lie for shit, so even if he don’t mean to spill the beans on all of us, it’s gonna happen anyway.” Mama glares at the paper for a moment before looking up and squaring her shoulders.

“Alright, we’re gonna divide and conquer here. Barclay and I will see if we can track down the abomination and get rid of it. Aubrey and Ned, you find Duck and Indrid, bring them both back here. Jake, Dani, you do whatever you to keep Stern distracted.”

“Oh, here, take Dr Harris Bonkers with you!” Aubrey hands the rabbit to Dani, but he’s quickly grabbed by Jake.

“Hell yeah little dude! Let’s go stick it to the man.” And he’s out door, rabbit in his arms. The others start grabbing their gear as Dani turns to Aubrey.

“Go get em, tiger.” She kisses her, just a quick peck on the lips, before following Jake. Aubrey makes a high pitched squealing noise until Ned taps her on the shoulder,

“C’mon Romeo, let’s go rescue our compatriots.”

\-------

They have not spoken about last night. Duck assumes it’s because by the time he woke up, he was in a different position on the couch and Indrid was already puttering about the kitchen, scribbling on random papers while heating up something that smells suspiciously like eggnog mixed with coffee. He must not have woken up until after Duck moved, and so never noticed the ranger had been sleeping on him. 

Yeah, that has to be it. 

Duck tucks Beacon under his hat on the floor and half-sleepwalks towards the shower as Indrid calls out to him.

“None of the futures are showing anything dire for the day. Perhaps we should have a movie marathon? That seems to be something humans enjoy doing on snowy days where nothing bad is happening.”

“Uh, yeah, that sounds great Indrid. Hey, can I borrow some”

“More clothes. I put some that should fit you on my bed.” Indrid turns back to the stove, gesturing vaguely towards the bedroom.

“Thanks, man.”

The shower feels nice, even when his cuts sting under the hot water. He’ll probably need Indrid to re-bandage the one on his back. That won’t be agonizingly embarrassing at all. What self-respecting, good looking mothman wouldn’t want to touch a forty year old guy while his whole torso turns red from blushing?

He thunks his head against the shower wall and rests it there. Goddamn, he is fucked. 

Once he’s dry and dressed, he steps out of the bathroom to see Indrid carrying to mugs over to the couch and place them next to bowls on top of what appears to be an overturned milk crate. Indrid whirls his bathrobe off with a flourish, revealing his standard white shirt and pajama pants.

“Ta-da! I have prepared a traditional snow day breakfast: eggnog lattes and cereal!”

Duck looks down to see that Indrid has poured them Lucky Charms, because of course he has. He sits down next to the taller man, who is bouncing excitedly.

“I have chosen a selection of movies from the finest era of film making: the 1970s! If, if that’s alright with you.” He adds, seeming a tad embarrassed by his own enthusiasm. Duck smiles.

“Sounds good to me. Go ahead and roll em.”

It turns out Indrid has eclectic tastes, and by the third movie Duck is simply curious to see what he’s going to pick next. Indrid explains that he prefers stories that are predictable, because then he doesn’t feel disappointed that he saw the ending coming, and it turns out he and Duck enjoy making comments about the movie they’re watching about the same amount. He still scribbles out a drawing here or there, but mostly he focuses on the movies and (when he thinks Duck isn’t watching) on Duck. 

The next movie turns out to be a rom-com. They reach the point where the protagonists have their first lover’s quarrel, and Indrid sighs. 

“You know, so often in these stories the issues could be avoided if they simply followed standard courtships procedures.” 

Duck snorts out a laugh.

“What, praytell, do you think is a standard courtship procedure? Like, a human one.” 

Indrid smiles slightly and nudges Duck with his shoulder. 

“I have been around humans for a very, very long time Duck. I’ve noticed what romantic approaches do and do not end in disaster.” He tosses his hair with an air of mock indignation, making Duck laugh louder. 

“Such as…?”

Indrids’ vision goes into the middle distance for a moment, before he looks at Duck again. 

“If you hold out your hand, I will show you.”

Still laughing slightly, Duck obliges. Indrid takes his hand and, keeping an eye on Ducks’ face, brings it to his lips. 

Whatever smart remark Duck was about to say dies in his mouth as Indrid kisses each knuckle in turn. When he sees Duck doesn’t look terrified and isn’t pulling his hand away, he drops his gaze entirely and begins methodically working his way up Duck’s hand and onto his wrist. 

Time has stopped, Duck is sure of it, positive that if he looked outside the snow would be hung mid-fall in the air. But he doesn’t want to look there, doesn’t want to look at anything besides Indrids profile as he pushes the sleeve of Ducks' sweater up, Indrids’ lips as they trail up his now-exposed arm. 

When Indrid can’t push the fabric up any further he lifts his head, shifts his body up slightly so he and Duck are face to face. It’s at this moment Duck realizes he’d been relaxing backwards as Indrid kissed him, and that he's now flat on his back with the other man above him. He brings his left hand up to brush Indrids’ hair from his face at the same time that Indrid leans down and plants a kiss on his forehead, leaving his hand resting on Indrids back. 

With the same care he gave Ducks hand and arm, Indrid kisses his way down the side of Ducks’ face. Duck desperately wants to turn his head so he can kiss Indrid square on the lips, but more than that he wants to see where this is going. 

Indrids lips meet the juncture of Ducks neck and shoulder and he gasps. Indrid kisses the same spot again, more forcefully, his tongue darting out to lick a small stripe back up Ducks neck. He gasps louder, hips canting upward before he has time to stop them. He’s about to apologize when Indrids’ voice is in his ear, soft and out of breath. 

“If you want me to stop here I can.” His left hand is still holding Duck’s right, smushed into the corner of the couch, his free hand bracing himself on the arm so his weight is mostly off of Ducks’ still-quite-sore body. 

“Can’t you see what I’m about to do a few seconds from now.”

“Yes, actually, but in these moments it pays to double-check.”

Duck moves his free hand into Indrids’ hair, uses it to guide his head so that they’re face to face again (he doesn’t pull, doesn’t have to). Indrid smiles shakily before Duck pulls him down into a kiss. 

It doesn’t start out soft, doesn’t have a chance to given the angle,and the awkwardness introduced by Indrids’ glasses and the fact that Duck just wants (and wants and wants) this more than he’s wanted anything in years. He unclasps his hand from Indrids so that he can hold his head with both hands as he pulls him deeper into the kiss. Indrid brings the hand not bracing him to Ducks cheek. He’s making those same small humming sounds that he made when Duck hugged him as he and Duck kiss, and Duck never wants to hear anything else for as long as he lives. 

He breaks the kiss only when he starts to feel lightheaded from lack of air. Indrid is panting now, staring down at him with a mixture of desire and awe. 

“More?” He breathes, adjusting his very askew glasses.

Duck pulls him down again, feels Indrids’ tongue run across his lips and opens them (when was the last time he french kissed someone? He’d figure that out later). The small hums are joined by another sound, somewhere between a chirp and a moan, when he rolls his hips up again. Indrid returns the movement and it’s Ducks’ turn to make noise. Indrid does it again, and Duck can feel him smiling as they kiss. 

He runs a hand down Indrids’ back lightly, until he reaches Indrids waist, where he presses down just as he pushes his hips up. He’s rewarded with a startled moan.

He’s punished by the fact that his actions causes Indrid to lose his grip on the arm of the couch, dropping his full weight onto Duck, sending a sharp burst of pain through the cut in his back.

“Ow, Jesus!” 

“I’m so sorry!” Indrid practically leaps off of Duck and onto the floor

They stare at each other a moment, before Indrid laughs nervously.

“I suppose I saw that coming a tad too late. Though, in my defense, I was preoccupied.”

“Don’t hurt that bad, just surprised me.”

“We could take that as an indication from the universe that we should stop.”

Duck looks at him, incredulous. 

“Orrrrr”

“Or?”

“Maybe it’s just a sign I need to re-dress the wound. I’ll grab the supplies. In the meantime..”

Indrid flashes him a mischievous look.

“Meet me in the bedroom.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments and kudos! I'm glad folks are enjoying the story.
> 
> Next up: Indrid tends to some sore spots. Aubrey is a good friend.


	6. ..Once Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck gets some payback. Aubrey is a pal.

Duck is sore. His neck is sore from sleeping on it weird, his back is sore from the cut traversing it. And another part of his anatomy is sore from getting built up and then interrupted. He is very much trying to ignore that last one.

He sits on the edge of the bed, sweater off, as Indrid crawls onto it behind him, band-aids and washcloth in hand. 

“So you, uh, like guys, I take it?” It feels like a silly question, but Duck asks it anyway.

“I do, yes. Sylvan understandings of sexuality aren’t quite the same as human ones, but as I understand it I am considered ‘gay’ by Earth standards. There, all finished.”

Duck hears movement behind him, assumes Indrid is getting his sweater, and is surprised when instead the other man wraps one arm and then the other around his waist, resting his chin on Ducks’ shoulder. 

“I’m beginnin' to think this was all a ruse to get my shirt off.”

“Partially. Infected injuries are nothing to take lightly. But if I’m understanding things correctly, you were hoping events would head this way.” His hands, which have been wandering aimlessly across Ducks’ chest and stomach, begin to travel lower. 

“Not necessarily, um, I, fuck, I mean, I could go either way, no, fuck. Yes.” 

“Duck, were you trying to play coy just then?”

“Yeah.”

“You know you have to be able to lie to do that, right?”

“Don’t sound so smug, mister expert-on-human-courtOHshit!” Indrids’ right hand slips under the waistband of Ducks’ sweatpants and he thumbs at the join between his thigh and his crotch before wrapping his fingers around a very grateful part of Ducks’ body.

“You were saying?” Indrid is smiling again, he can tell without even needing to see him. He kisses the nape of Ducks neck before nuzzling it with that now-familiar hum. 

“I was, ah jesus, sayin' that you can do whatever you want forever, christ, as long as you don’t fuckin' stop.”

Indrid laughs, leans his head forward slightly to kiss Duck on the cheek, his hand moving more rapidly. Duck lets out a stream of profanities, causing Indrid to laugh (and grip) harder.

“I do so enjoy your eloquence.”

“Are you for real givin' me shit right now oh, fuck, like that!”

Indrid dips his head down and nips at the base of Ducks’ neck. Duck whimpers, feels Indrid cock his head. 

“Huh, you do like that.”

“Doubtin' your visions there seer-boy? Oh CHRIST.” Indrid doesn’t respond to the remark, instead biting down again. And again. And again, biting and sucking along his shoulders and neck until Duck is no longer capable of making sentences, or really even words.

Indrid switches to long, hard strokes, his free arm pulling Duck tight against him. Bites his ear this time. 

“If you keep doin' that I’m gonna, fuck, Indrid.” Duck comes before he finishes his sentence, hears Indrid make another chirp-moan up against him before removing his hand and wiping it on the discarded washcloth (at least Duck hopes it’s the washcloth and not the sheets). 

They flop down onto the bed together (or rather Indrid eases Duck down before curling up next to him). It takes Duck a few minutes to gather his thoughts, Indrid stroking his head during the interim. 

“Sweet baby Jesus, that felt good.”

“I’m quite glad.” Indrid’s voice is soft and sleepy. Duck rubs at his neck, chuckling. 

“Damn, don’t think I’ve had a hickey since high school.”

“Are they pleasant?”

“I mean, I like em, obviously.”

“I admit I’ve never had one.”

“Really?” Duck drawls, raising up on one shoulder.

“Really. I’ve been curious about them, as about most parts of human courtship, but haven’t had a chance to Oh MY!” Duck rolls over on top of him to interrupt the thought.

“Ya want one now?” 

Indrid blinks at him for a moment.

“Yes, please.”

Duck eases his head down, takes a moment just to kiss Indrid gently on the neck before biting him. Indrid yelps, claps a hand over his mouth.

“Was that a good noise?” 

“Yes, please do that as much as possible” Indrids’ voice goes slightly higher than normal. Duck grins at him. 

“Oh good, cause it’s time for a little payback.” He’s on Indrids’ neck again in a flash, not even caring where is lips land. He just wants to taste every inch of him, get more of those desperate, pleased noises to pour out of his mouth. He pulls at the neck of Indrids’ shirt for better access, and then an idea occurs to him.

He shifts down so he can tugat the waistband of Indrids’ pants, pulling them down just enough so that he can place a hickey below Indrids’ hip bone. Indrid gives a drawn-out gasp, arches his back giving Duck the space to grab his ass and hold him in place as he continues to kiss and nip a line along Indrids’ waist. He can tell with a quick glance down that Indrid is hard.

If Indrid hasn’t had a hickey before, maybe there are some other things he’s never had before. 

Moving his head even lower, he mouths at Indrids’ cock through his pants and suddenly the other mans' hands are in his hair, surprisingly tight. He can’t move his head, settles on nuzzling at the spot on his pants he can access until he knows what comes next. 

“Duck.”

“Yeah?”

“There are two problems with what you’re about to try. First of all, we do not have any protection which, as I understand it, is something most humans feel necessary for this. Secondly, your friends are going to arrive in two minutes.”

“Sonuvabitch.” 

Indrid releases his grip on Ducks’ hair, allowing Duck to crawl back up so they’re face to face. 

“Two minutes?”

“Indeed.”

“Tell me when it gets to one.” He leans down and kisses Indrid, who returns the gesture with great enthusiasm. What feels like far too soon, Indrid mutters through the kiss.

“One minute.”

Duck breaks away with a sigh. And then his brain catches up with him. 

“Shit, I need a shirt! And new pants!” 

The next sixty seconds are a scramble of clothing, and Duck just manages to get decent looking as Indrid walks to the door and opens it a half-second before Aubrey knocks. 

“Oh thank God, for a minute I thought I was knocking on the door of a serial killer.” 

“Hello to you too, Aubrey. Hi, Ned.”

“Hey you two.” Duck steps into Aubreys line of view and she rushes forward, bringing him into a hug. 

“Glad, ow, glad to see you too.”

Once she’s done crushing him, Aubrey and Ned bring Duck up to speed on the plan, including the part where Indrid has to come back to the lodge with them, sans Winnebago. 

By the time they’re finished explaining, Indrid is standing beside Duck with a duffel bag, wrapped in what seems to be six layers of clothing. 

“Ready if you three are.”

As they tromp towards the snowcat, Aubrey falls in step besides Duck.

“Soooooo, what happened to your neck?”

The look of horror on his face tells her all she needs to know. 

“Here.” She unwraps her scarf and loops it around his neck.

“If I have to listen to you try and lie about that, I’m gonna die laughing.”

Duck finishes wrapping the scarf to cover as much of his neck as humanly possible. 

“Thanks Aubrey, you’re a pal.” He says dryly. 

Behind them, he swears he can hear Indrid giggling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rating change is upon us.
> 
> Next up: Barclay makes a lot of tea, and Duck takes Indrid home.


	7. Out of the Frying Pan...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barclay makes some tea, Duck orders dinner.

The first thing Aubrey sees when she sticks her head through the lobby door of the lodge is Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD, sprinting past her with a black cord in his mouth. Agent Stern runs after him, and Dani runs after Agent Stern shouting some sort of apology. Aubrey looks over her shoulder.

“We’re clear.”

The four of the scurry across the lobby and into the kitchen.

“Why are we hidin' in here and not in our safe room?”

“Mama asked us to. Something about how if we disappear too much from the lodge proper Stern might get suspicious.” Aubrey answers as she doffs her beanie and attempts to un-hathair her pompadour. 

“That I did.” Mama stands next to the stove, flanked by Barclay who is pouring many cups of tea. Mama has a bandage across the bridge of her nose, and Barclay’s entire left hand is wrapped up in the same material. 

“Good to have ya back Duck. Indrid.” She gives a curt nod towards the latter, who is shivering and looks to be considering whether sitting on the stove would be safe. He gives Mama and Barclay a quick smile. 

“Well, I won’t dance around it; fuckin' thing kicked our ass when we attacked it, as you can see. It’s a remarkably durable abomination for its size. If we’re gonna get rid of it, it’s gonna take all of us.” Mama takes her tea from Barclay, who passes the other mugs about the room as she continues.

“What we’re gonna have to do in the meantime is make sure Duck is never alone. At work, at home, what have you.”

“What’re y’all gonna do while I’m at work? Sit in the station with me and say you’re my bodyguards?” Duck can picture how well that will go the moment anyone asks him what’s going on. Bad. Bad is how it will go. 

“We’ll figure that out. Would be nice if we could have more than a few minutes insight and warning into where and when this thing is likely to come after ya.” She stares pointedly at Indrid, who has chugged his tea and is holding the mug out towards Barclay to ask for more. Barclay seems pleased. 

“As I’ve said before Mama, my foresight doesn’t work that way, no matter how much you or I may wish it does. That being said, I will gladly stay with Duck at his home as added protection, as Ned is about to suggest.” 

“Fine. Ned, you and Aubrey will keep an eye on Duck at work. We got some spare walky-talkies in the janitors closet, you can those to stay in touch. Meet back here tomorrow as soon as Duck is done with work, and we’ll see if we can corner this thing in the woods once it gets dark. Odds are it might show up pretty quick, given that Duck is basically bait for it.”

“Can’t say I like the sound of that last part.” Duck feels Indrid scoot closer to him, lean against him ever-so-slightly. It’s not as comforting as he wishes it was, but a warmth kindles in his chest all the same. 

It would be more comforting if Aubrey was not across from him wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. He needs to introduce her to Jane when she gets back in town; the two of them would definitely get along. 

He’s about to say something else, when the kitchen door swings open just as Indrid grabs him and pulls him into the pantry. 

Aubrey sees Danis’ face in the doorway looking panicked. Then she sees why.

Agent Stern stands in the doorway, Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD, in his arms. The rabbit still has a black power cable in his mouth. Stern gently removes it before smiling at Aubrey. 

“Ms Little, I believe this furry gentlemen belongs to you. Gave me quite a run for my money, I must say.” He pats the rabbit on the head before handing him to Aubrey.

“My, that tea smells delightful. Would it be possible to get some Mr. Barclay?”

“Of course!” Barclay smiles, though Aubrey can see his eye twitches just a tad. 

\-------

 

Duck and Indrid are almost back to Ducks’ place, after making as stealthy an exit as possible with one person bundled in six layers of clothing and the other injured enough to make walking fast an adventure. 

As Duck fumbles with his keys, the weight of everything Mama said settles over him like a storm cloud. The next few days of his life are going to boil down to him acting like bait in a snare, with the added fun of never having a single moment’s peace. 

Just another fun, glorious, part of the being the fucking Chosen One.

Then again.

He feels Indrid huddled up behind him, vibrating with either anticipation or cold. They’ll have his apartment all to themselves, with no prying eyes. That offers some intriguing ways to release the stress he’s under.

Oh, he is going to unwrap that man like a Christmas present. 

He puts his hand on the knob just as Indrid speaks.

“Try not to be too surprised.”

“Surprised by what?”

The door swings open. And he’s staring at someone who looks very much like Ryan Gosling. 

“Duuuuck.”

\--------------

Duck spends the next fifteen minutes on the phone.

“Hello, you’ve reached the Cryptonomica, home to many splendorous”

“Ned, why the fuck is Billy in my house?”

“My apologies dear friend, but Stern’s been around the shop a little too often, so I thought it best to keep him somewhere more private.”

“How the hell’d you even get him..you picked my lock, didn’t you?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“Ned, you ain't a magician, Aubrey is.”

“Fair point. Look, just keep him there until tomorrow and I can come get him and bring him back here with me. Won’t hurt to have some extra security at the shop over night.”

“Fine. See ya Ned.”

“See you bright and early tomorrow!”

Duck hangs up the phone, glances over to see Billy watching intently as Indrid tries to coax Millicent into chasing his scarf. Billy turns to look at Duck.

“Pizzaaa?”

Duck picks the phone back up.

“Hello, you’ve reached Dominoes, this is Justin how can I help you?”

“Yeah, I’d like to order two pizzas. One cheese and one..veggie? Yeah, let’s go with that.”

“Alright, and would you like to upgrade that order to a munch squad?”

“A what now?”

“That lets you get a large bottle of soda and some cinnamon breadsticks with your meal.”

“Uh, sure sounds good.”

“Your order will be there in thirty minutes or less.”

Duck hangs up again, takes out his wallet and pulls out some cash.

“Indrid, I need to go talk to Leo about what’s been goin' on real quick. Can you keep an eye on Billy and pay for the pizza if it gets here before I’m back?”

Indrid stands from where he’s finally gotten Millie to play with him on the rug and walks over to Duck.

“Of course. This one isn’t going to hit me with a shovel is he? It doesn’t look likely, but I’d rather be sure.”

“Don’t think so. You’re gonna be polite to Indrid, right Billy?”

Billy nods. Indrid shrugs. 

“Good enough. Hurry back.” He gives Duck a small, fond smile.

Duck is halfway to Leo’s place when there’s a noise behind. He spins, unfurling Beacon as he does so.

It’s a raccoon. He relaxes. 

“Oh yes, this is just excellent Duck Newton. At last a foe worthy of your skills.” Beacon creaks out.

“Shut up.”

“By the way, the next time you want to get nasty with your moth friend, please do me the courtesy of putting me somewhere more soundproof than under your hat.”

“First of all, his name is Indrid. Second, if you breathe a word of that to anyone I will stick you in the garbage disposal.”

\---------------

Indrid loves cats, even if they don’t always love him. Earth pets tend to be slightly suspicious of him. He blames it on the whole ‘giant moth’ thing. 

Millie has finally decided to sit next to him on the couch while he sketches. Billy sits on the floor next to them, patting the cat happily on the head. 

Indrid is sure he’s harmless. Well, pretty sure. Sure enough to hand Billy drawings that become irrelevant so he can eat them (he seems to actively enjoy that). The only drawings Billy doesn’t get are the ones of Indrid and Duck. It seems inappropriate to let him eat some of the images. They’re filthy. 

Indrid had a small hope that once they’d gotten it out of their systems, those futures would disappear. But no, instead the blasted things are more prevalent and varied than ever. It’s not that Indrid doesn’t want those futures (he does, good gracious he does), it’s that they’re more often than not tied up in bad endings. Endings Duck doesn’t deserve. Worse, they’re endings Duck chooses out of his feelings for Indrid. 

There’s a knock at the door. Billy jumps up excitedly.

“Pizzaaa!”

Indrid reaches for the cash, then spots one of the futures. He jumps up, tries to stop Billy from opening the door, shoves him out of the way when it’s already half-open. Puts on his biggest, tightest smile. 

Agent Stern stands on the landing. 

“Good evening, I was hoping to speak to Duck Newton. Is he home?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to think of the term for sex that would be the worst to hear in Beacons' voice. Let me know if you think of others so we can suffer together. 
> 
> FYI, I imagine Indrids' future drawings happening in a way similar to automatic writing. 
> 
> Next up: Indrid tries to be charming, Duck is inquisitive, and everyone is in over their heads.


	8. ...Into the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indrid practices misdirection. Duck makes good use of seven minutes.

“I’m afraid Duck isn’t home right now Mr Stern. He’s off helping Mr Tarkesian, you know, the guy whose store got destroyed. He’s very civic minded you know.”

“I see. And you are?”

“Oh, of course, where are my manners? I’m Indrid Cold.” Stern perks up at that. 

“Like the …” 

“Urban legend, yes. My parents were from California, so had no idea about that particular story when they named me twenty-odd years ago. I myself had no idea until I visited this lovely state.” Indrid adjusts his posture, tries to play up the parts of himself that look younger. Stern seems to buy it (he hopes).

“And how do you know Duck?”

“We met at the ranger station. I’m a bit of a nature-lover and we got to talking, and then he offered to play host for me while I was in town.”

Stern cocks an eyebrow.

“Is that so? I thought he’d been out of town for the last few days, at least that’s what everyone kept telling me.”

“My fault entirely. I was so interested in exploring the forest that Duck offered to take me on some the more extensive trails, so we made a small trip out of it.” He lowers his voice conspiratorially. 

“Just between us, I don’t think he was technically supposed to take me out there. But that’s Duck for you; always going the extra mile.”

He sees ten distinct futures in which Duck returns too early and is cornered by Stern. Shooting a quick glance behind the door he finds that Billy is, mercifully, standing quiet and still. Maybe he’s afraid of Stern too.

“I’m so sorry, here I am taking up your time talking about myself. What do you need to ask Duck? I can pass it on to him so you can get on with your evening.”

“Thing is Mr.Cold, I’ve been trying to talk to Duck for days now and have had no luck. I wary of missing my chance.”

Fifteen futures where Duck is cornered. 

“I understand completely, but I’m afraid I don’t know when Duck will be back, and I’m not much of a night owl, so I’ll need to turn in soon. How about you leave me your card and I’ll have Duck call you in the morning?”

Stern hesitates.

“While you mull that over, I do want to share something else with you. A friend of mine mentioned you were interested in the paranormal. Can’t say I put much stock in those things myself, but I heard the most fascinating story from a young woman when I stopped into the coffee shop my first day here. She said she saw Bigfoot!”

“Where?”

“She was a little vague in her description, but she mentioned the woods near the lower part of town. It was my understanding that she was going to be here for at least a few days, maybe even look for him again.”

“Did you happen to get her name?” Stern removes a small notebook and pen from his front pocket.

“Iris McGuffin, I believe. Hard to forget a name like that really, it’s almost as odd as mine.” 

Stern jots something down in the notebook, reaches into his pocket, and hands Indrid a card. 

“I need to be on my way, but please have Duck call me as soon as possible. Thank you for your time, Mr. Cold.” He puts slightly more emphasis on those last to words than Indrid is comfortable with hearing. 

Stern departs, and Indrid shuts the door before slumping against it with relief.

“Duuuck?”

“No Billy, no sign of him yet. You don’t like Agent Stern, do you?”

Billy shakes his head. 

“Me neither. Guy gives me the creeps.”

\---------------------------------------

 

Duck returns home to still-hot pizza, a content Billy, and Indrid stress-chugging the soda that came with their dinner. Indrid relays the conversation with Stern, and Duck decides that, for the rest of the night, he is not going to think about or do anything related to Stern or the paranormal.

Except have dinner with a goatman and a cute guy who also happens to be a giant moth, of course.

Several hours later, Billy is snoring comfortably on the couch with Millie curled up on top of him. Duck makes his way into the bedroom and sees Indrid. Already in the bed. With every blanket in the house on or around him. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to presume you’d be okay sharing a bed, but I got cold.” He’s drawing again, and Duck spots multiple sketches strewn across the floor. 

“S’alright, got no problem sharin' it.” He changes into his pajamas, brushes his teeth, slips into bed next to Indrid, who flips the sketchpad closed. Duck switches off the light. 

“Do you, uh, want to, um”

“Cuddle?” Indrid finishes for him.

“Yeah for, you know, warmth. Since you’re cold.”

Indrid scooches over, nestles his head against Ducks’ chest.

“You’re just doing this out of the goodness of your heart?”

“No.” He’s too tired to even try to lie, loops his arms around Indrid and pulls him close.

“G’night Indrid.”

“Goodnight, Duck.”

\----------

At some point during the night, Indrid loses his glasses again. Duck can tell this because as the blaring of his alarm wakes him, his head is once again on the feathers (is it feathers on a moth? Who can he ask about that without making it weird?) of Indrids’ torso. And something that sounds suspiciously like a wing moves through the air to thwack at the alarm clock until it goes silent. 

The surface under Ducks head shifts, and suddenly he’s resting against a skinny, tank-top clad stomach. He looks over to see Indrid sitting up slightly, taking in their relative positions on the bed.

“How does this happen?” 

Duck sits up to see what he means, and realizes that some time during the night he’s shifted so that he’s laying cross-wise on the bed, while Indrid has migrated to the exact center of the mattress.

“Neither of us have slept with another person in years?”

“Decades, but fair point.”

Duck adjusts himself so that the two of them are both rolled on their sides facing one another. 

“Indrid, can I ask you somethin'?”

“You want to know why I chose this form for my human self. Oh, sorry, harder to stop myself from getting ahead when I’m groggy.”

“Well, yeah. You made Billy look like Ryan Gosling, why not make yourself look like, I dunno, George Clooney or some shit?”

Indrid sighs. 

“I guess this just felt...right. I take up so much space in my Sylvan form, it’s nice to be a little thinner and such. And this matches how I assume people would picture me if they knew what I really was. No one thinks a giant moth is attractive, or even normal-looking. So why should human-me be any different?” There’s a little sadness in his voice as he says this, and Duck reaches a hand to to stroke his back.

“I think this form is cute.”

Indrid snorts, rests his head on Ducks shoulder. 

“I believe that’s the first time anyone’s ever called me that.”

“Well, I’ll say it again; you’re awful cute. Specially this part.” He glides his hand down and squeezes Indrids ass, earning a small “eep” from the other man. He does it again and Indrids’ hips twitch forward. He leans in , kisses Indrids neck as he brings his hand around to stroke lightly at his cock.

“I have good news and bad news.” Indrid whispers.

“The bad news is we’re going to be interrupted again.”

“You fuckin' kiddin' me?”

“Sadly, no. But the good news is: we have seven minutes this time.”

“I can roll with that. Hold on.” Duck reaches backwards until his hand smacks his bedside table, he rifles through the top drawer until he finds the bottle of lotion he keeps for just such occasions (said occasions have been with himself for quite some time). He squirts a bit into his palm.

“Now, where were we?”

“You know very well, and you now have six minutes and thirty secohOHokay.” Ducks hand is already shoved down Indrids pants, stroking him as hard and fast as he can. 

At first Indrid tenses, as if he’s not quite sure what to do, his usual hum rapidly becoming a loud whine. 

“You better be quiet, unless you want Billy comi'n in here to see what all the fuss is about.” Duck says it teasingly, but something about the sentence causes Indrid to groan and pump his hips in time with Ducks’ movements until Duck barely has to move his hand at all as Indrid thrusts into it. He catches a whiff of that same smell, the shampoo or whatever that Indrids’ started using, and he swears that if this keeps happening he’s going to develop a Pavlovian response to the scent of vanilla. 

He kisses Indrid just as the thinner man moans something out; in the garbled words, Duck swears he hears his name, and then Indrid is coming all over his hand. 

When they break apart, Indrid looks at him the same way he did when they first fooled around on the couch in the trailer; awe and lust and something else Duck can’t parse moving across his face. 

“Four minutes.”

“Fuck!”

Duck takes the fastest shower of his life, dresses just in time for Ned to knock on the door.

“Good morning Duck, I brought coffee and doughnuts to help sustain us through the days vigil!”

“Thanks Ned. Billy, Indrid, remember the plan?”

“Yes!” Indrid calls out from the bedroom.

"Pizza!" Bleats Billy from the couch.

“Alright, let’s get this fuckin' show on the road.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm slowly realizing that I've been envisioning Indrid using one of those "Philosophy" brand body washes/shampoos that smell like sugar cookies or some such.
> 
> Also, for context, the first Indrid Cold sightings were in the 1960s, so Indrid is trying to convince Stern he's too young to be who Stern thinks he is. 
> 
> Coming up next: Duck is distracted, Aubrey is bored, and Indrid is shopping.


	9. A Little Less Conversation....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aubrey keeps watch, Duck loses focus, and Indrid stocks up.

“Aubrey to Ned, do you copy?”

“This is Ned, I copy, over.”

“I’m. SO. BOOOOOOOOOOOOORED. Over”

“Now Aubrey, think of this as an opportunity for some serenity, some mindfulness, some, some”

“You’re bored too, aren't you? Over.”

“I’m so fucking bored. Over.”

“Can you two keep it down, I’m tryin' to work? Over.”

“Sorry Duck.”

“Apologies, Duck.”

“Aubrey out.”

Aubrey tucks her walky-talkie back into her coat pocket, surveys the surroundings. 

Yep, she’s still in a tree, keeping watch in case the abomination turns up at the ranger station. And nothing is happening. Nothing has been happening for hours. She’s already thought up two new tricks for her act, planned her Halloween costume for next year, designed a new stage outfit for Dr. Harris Bonkers, and figured out three parties she’s going to talk Mama into throwing at the lodge: a midsummer bonfire, a masquerade, and a valentines day brunch (yeah, it’s a crappy consumer holiday, but she one hundred percent wants to see Barclay make a bunch of pink food. He’ll probably get super into it).

She flicks a small fire back and forth in her hands. 

Something crunches in the snow below her.

She looks down. Dani smiles up at her, looking warm and cozy in her huge puffy jacket. 

“You look like you could use some company.”

“Please for the love of god.”

Dani scrambles up the tree, finally settling on a large branch across from Aubrey. She reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a small thermos, handing it to Aubrey. 

“Courtesy of Barclay, he’s says it’s got extra-warming spices.”

Aubrey takes a sip. It’s nice, smells like cinnamon and star anise.

“How’s Dr Harris Bonkers?”

“Behaving himself. I left him with Jake, last I saw he was trying to figure out if he can make a rabbit-sized snowboard. Everything been quiet here?”

“Yeah. I almost wish the thing would show up so I could light something on fire.”

“That’s my girl.” Dani says fondly, and Aubrey really, really wishes they could go somewhere warm and curl up together. 

“I should let you go back to work. I’ll see you tonight at the lodge.” She leans forward, balancing gracefully, and kisses Aubrey before bumping their noses together.

“Bye you.”

“Eeeeeh. I mean, bye!” 

Dani climbs down the tree, and Aubrey watches her until she disappears from view. 

She hopes Duck is at least getting some work done. 

\-------------

Duck is getting zero work done.

He’s been staring at the data on forest health for what feels like an eternity, but it’s hard to focus when an abomination from another planet could bust down the door at any minute. 

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Aubrey and Ned, in fact quite the opposite; he trusts them to come bail him out. That’s part of the problem. Because this abomination has his name on it, and if they try to help him they could very well get hurt, or killed, by something that only wants him. 

They’re not chosen ones. They shouldn’t have to deal with something that wants to kill the chosen one. The thing got the better of Mama and Barclay, could get the better of anyone who gets between it and Duck. He knows he’ll never forgive himself if something happens to his friends because of him. 

A branch scrapes against the window outside, and he unfurls Beacon on a reflex. 

“Duck Newton, I regret to inform you that putting me in the hall closet did not prevent me from hearing you and your boy toy having intercou”

Duck closes Beacon back up. 

Yeah, the abomination isn’t the only reason he can’t focus. 

He keeps thinking about Indrid, daydreaming about taking him for a hike in the spring when the native flowers all start blooming, buying him all the eggnog he desires next winter. Introducing him to Jane. 

No, no, no, no. Duck is a chosen one. If he understands pop culture as much as he thinks he does, partners of chosen ones don’t have high survival rates. He’d thought that maybe, if he and Indrid could just be friends with benefits (is it still called that?), Indrid would be safe. Maybe he doesn’t need more than that, doesn’t need to keep him around for as long as he possibly can.

He’s lying, and he knows it. 

\------------

It’s been a long time since Indrid was in a space that wasn’t his own for more than a few minutes. He’s rather enjoying it. He likes seeing the few books Duck has laying around, what groceries he keeps in his cabinets (Indrid now feels less bad about the food he had in his trailer), the pictures he keeps here and there.

Indrid is looking at one picture he rather likes that he assumes Aubrey took on her phone, of Ned, Duck and Aubrey (and Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD, who is wearing Ducks hat) when he shivers. 

He doesn’t want to overload Ducks’ heating bill, but he is still very cold. Maybe if he gets one or two space heaters, he can get enough targeted heat to be comfortable. 

Plus, Duck is out of eggnog, so he is definitely going to the store. 

One very cold (oh so cold) walk later, Indrid wanders through the aisles of the Walgreens, basket full of half-priced eggnog and hand warmers. He still can’t find a space heater. Good thing an employee is about to come around that corner. 

“Can I help you”

“Find anything? Yes, I was wondering if you have space heaters.” 

“We have one or two, I think. Here, let me see.” Indrid follows the man, an older gentleman whose name tag reads ‘Clint,’ across the store. They have two space heaters left. Thank goodness. 

“Can I help you find anything else?” Clint asks, as Indrid balances the space heaters in his basket.

“Yes.” Indrid gestures over to row of shelves full of condoms, lube, and several things in purple boxes he can’t identify. 

“Can you tell me which of these tastes best?”

\--------------------

The evening stakeout is a complete bust. Mama, Barclay, Billy (who hides behind Duck from Mamas’ glare), Indrid, and the Pine Guard wait in the cold for six hours, with no sign of the abomination. At last, Indrid rubs his forehead and says, “I don’t foresee it happening any time tonight. I suggest we all go home before we freeze to death.”

Everyone looks at Mama.

“Yeah, I’m with Indrid y’all. Same plan tomorrow unless you hear otherwise.”

They split off, Aubrey with Mama and Barclay towards the lodge, Ned and Billy back to the Cryptonomica, Duck and Indrid back home (well, Ducks' home, but he’s already thinking of it as their home, which he knows is a problem).

He takes off all of the extra layers covering his uniform (he can’t wait for winter to end) as he turns up the thermostat and starts the space heater in the living room. He hears the rustle of Indrids’ various coats coming off as he flicks on the space heater in the bedroom.

“I don’t see any danger for the rest of the night, in any of the futures.” 

“That’s good, could use a break from worryin' about dyin' for an hour or two.” Duck turns to see Indrid leaning against the door frame to the bedroom. He’s smiling, a look that Duck used to find a bit unnerving (and kind of still does) but now sends a spike of arousal through his gut. 

“I do see several futures you may find interesting.” Indrid closes the gap between them, shutting the door as he does so. He puts a hand on Ducks’ chest, which Duck fondly covers with his own. 

“Uh huh. Tell me, my good-lookin seer, do we make it to bed in any of those futures.”

Indrid grins wider.

“Nope.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Indrid tastes bubblegum and Duck learns about refractory periods.


	10. ....A Little More Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Indrid critiques a product, Duck feeds a cat.

Indrid kisses Duck, nudging him backward until he’s pressed against the wall. Indrid nips at his ear, his neck, and then drops to his knees as he starts undoing Ducks’ belt. 

“You ain’t even gonna give a guy a chance to get his clothes off?”

“No, not this time. I rather like you in this.”

“Hang on, do you have a thing for my ranger uniform?” He looks down at a rapidly blushing Indrid. 

“....Yes.” 

Duck starts giggling, mostly at the idea that his uniform could be a turn on for anyone, and Indrid laughs too, resting his head against Ducks’ hip, hands paused for the moment. 

Duck manages to catch his breath long enough to stop laughing and say, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt ya.”

In a flash, Indrid is moving again, rucking Ducks shirt up before yanking his pants and boxers to the ground. He kisses a line from Ducks stomach downwards, until he’s kissing his inner thigh. Then he bites down. 

“Jeeeezus, you’re hell-bent on makin' sure no part of me don’t got a mark on it.” He’s bracing his hands against the wall to make up for his weakening knees. Indrid smirks up at him.

“It’s payback, as you so eloquently put it a few days ago.”

“Fair ‘nough.” Is all he gets out before Indrid starts again. He makes eight marks, four on each side, before pulling away. 

“I need to grab something for this next part. Don’t move.” He scrambles over to his side of the bed, and Duck hears the rustle of a plastic bag. He doesn’t see what Indrid grabs, as his eyes are shut in an attempt to get a hold of himself (he’s not going to last long no matter what he does, but he wants to draw this out as long as he can).

Indrid's on his knees again, and Duck gasps as a hand starts slowly, almost casually, stroking his cock. 

“Ready?”

“Fuck yes, hang on, do you smell bubblegum?” 

“Yes! I found some of these” he finishes rolling on the condom “that have all sorts of exciting tastes.”

“That’s ...good. Oh, OH, god, oh god that’s good.” Duck yelps as Indrid runs his tongue experimentally up and down his shaft, before sucking on the tip. He pulls away after a few seconds, tilting his head slightly.

“Huh, doesn’t taste as sweet as I was hoping.” He licks up and down twice more, pulls away again.

“Maybe I should write the distributor to complain.”

“Indriiiiiid” Duck groans.

“Yes, is there something I can do for you?” Duck looks down too Indrid exaggeratedly batting his eyelashes before flicking his tongue across the tip.

“You’re fuckin' with me.” Duck can’t help smile a little an Indrids smug nod. He likes winding Duck up. Huh. 

Duck likes that quite a bit. He’ll play along. 

“Of all the low-down, dirty things to do when a man has his pants dowFUCK!” The last word comes out as he watches Indrid take most of him into his mouth, his head starting to bob back and forth. 

Duck can’t figure out what to with his hands, flattens them against the wall as Indrid picks up his pace, occasionally pulling off to lavish attention on one area or another. The first time he hums, the vibrations shooting across Ducks’ cock make him cry out. 

“You do that again I’m gonna pass out.” 

Indrid groans around his cock, places a hand on each of Ducks hips to brace him against the wall. Gives a long, drawn out hum as he sucks harder, digs his nails into Ducks’ skin.

Duck’s a goner, and as he comes he feels Indrid give a small, satisfied hum before removing his mouth. His legs are weak, threatening to collapse, and he’s glad that Indrid took his joke about passing out seriously. At least he assumes that’s why his hands are still pressing Ducks’ hips against the wall. 

It’s only when Indrid stands rapidly, shifting so that one hand is pressing Ducks upper body into the wall, that Duck realizes he misunderstood slightly. 

Indrid presses up against him, grinding his hips frantically on Ducks thigh and hip, chirp-moans interspersing with strings of endearments as he alternates between kissing Ducks neck, lips, and forehead. One leg keeps brushing against his groin, contact with the sensitive skin making Duck gasp. Any more pressure than there is and Duck would be in pain, but he suspects Indrid is using his being-slightly-ahead to anticipate what actions would hurt.

His legs give a little more, and he’s suddenly aware that Indrid is holding him up effortlessly. Meaning some of the strength he has as an eight-foot tall moth creature sticks around when he’s human. Duck plans to invent all sorts of ways explore that revelation, just as soon as his brain comes back online. 

Indrid tenses, shudders, and Duck feels something wet spread across his thigh. Indrids foreheads rests against his own and, with a stunning amount of gracelessness, they both collapse on the floor, Duck still leaning against the wall. 

Indrids breathing returns to normal as he crawls in between Ducks legs and nestles up against him. 

“My apologies if that was a bit intense. I was, well, surprised by how strongly I reacted and how much I wanted you, how good it felt being with you.”

“Didn’t see it comin'?” Duck tries not to laugh at the pun. Fails. 

“Seeing a future and experiencing it are two very different things.” Indrid sighs contentedly. 

“I didn’t mind it one bit. It’s kinda flatterin'.”

A scratch at the door makes them both jump.

“Shit, I forgot to feed Millie! Be right back.” Duck kisses Indrid on the shoulder before heading in the direction of the forlorn meowing. 

He feeds the disgruntled cat, changes into his pajamas, clicks off the space-heater in the living room. By the time he’s back in the bedroom, Indrid is cross-legged on the bed, drawing. The stack of images on the floor has grown since the morning. Duck needs to buy the man a bulletin board or they’ll be wading through paper before the week is out. 

Softly, he slides onto the bed next to Indrid, who doesn’t seem to notice, intent on his sketching. Duck peeks over his shoulder.

“You droppin' hints?”

“Eeenope!” Indrid pulls the drawing against his chest, hiding it.

“Naw, let me see that.” 

“Not a chance.” Indrid blushes, rolls away as Duck grabs for him. Makes it onto his stomach before Duck manages to pin him in place. 

“C’mon now, no need to be ashamed of drawin' dirty pictures.” Duck teases, dropping a kiss onto his lower back. 

“Is not a ‘dirty picture’ it is simply one of several possible future. See?” Indrids voice is muffled by a pillow as he points towards the other drawings on the bed; one of him Duck asleep together, one of Jake sitting in the springs at the lodge, another of Leo closing his house up for the night. 

Duck slowly rolls Indrid (still holding the crumpled drawing to his chest) back over. He is now the exact same shade as his glasses. 

“Uh huh. And that future has nothin' to do with the fact you’re ready to go again?” He runs a palm over Indrids hardening cock for emphasis. 

“That is simply a, nnnh, difference in Sylph anatomy as compared to humans; we require less time to recover after orgasm. Or, at least, I do. I….don’t have a lot of points of comparison, let’s just say that.” 

“Fascinatin' as that is, it don’t answer my question.” Duck continues to move his hand gently up and down. 

“I do very much like this future, but the point is I don’t get to pick and choose what futures happen based on my wants. Also, given your state after your orgasm, plus your age, I am well aware you may not be up for anything else and do not wish you to feel you must be because of this” he waves the hand holding the drawing in the air. 

“That’s awful thoughtful of you, but what from what I saw of that drawin', I don’t got to do much besides this.” He shifts down onto his stomach, takes the head of Indrids’ cock into his mouth as best as he can through the pajama pants. 

“If it’s really what you wantaaahoh, oh goodness whatever you just did felt amazing.”

“Consider that my answer then. You got any more of those, ah, here’s one.” Duck picks up a stray condom, notes it’s “chocolate-covered strawberry” flavored as he hurriedly tears the pack open. He works Indrids pants down, rolls the condom on, and happily returns to his previous activity. 

He’d seen the term ‘writhe’ associated with sex when he’d swipe the romance novels Jane kept under her mattress as a teenager. It’d struck him as odd then, but it was exactly what Indrid was doing now. He has to place one hand on each of his legs to keep Indrid from kneeing him in the gut accidentally.

He’s rusty, he knows it, but Indrid doesn’t seem to care. Thin fingers thread through his hair, stroking his head as he picks up his pace (he can take most of Indrid into his mouth, as Indrid isn’t that large, not like Duck could give a singular fuck about his size).

“Please, pleasepleasepleaseplease.” The words are less a request and more a vague plea to the universe, and Duck trusts Indrid to get more specific if he has too. The fingers in his hair tighten as Indrid thrusts upward with a moan. 

Duck waits until Indrid relaxes before pulling away. 

“Okay, okay I very much see why that is a common part of human courtship.” Indrid pants out and Duck collapses with laughter, resting his head on Indrids stomach. 

“Glad to do my part for your research.” Now-familiar hands tug at his shoulders, and he obligingly shifts upwards until Indrid can kiss his lips.

“My sweet Duck” Indrid kisses him again, long and deep.

“You are so much more than that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hand to god, I did not make either of those condom flavors up.
> 
> FYI: I don't picture Duck as looking much like Justin, but I definitely assume he laughs like him. 
> 
> Next up: Indrid is a road hazard, Beacon is useful, and Duck is fucked (not in the fun way)


	11. Ain't It Just Like the Present..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck meets his match. Indrid makes coffee. Aubrey flames on.

“Aubrey to Ned, do you copy? Over.”

“Ned to Aubrey, I copy. Over.”

“Are there any of those cinnamon maple doughnuts left? Over.”

“Billy ate the last one. Sorry. Over”

“Goddammit, over.”

“Unless the next sentence is one of you saying you’ll bring me coffee, please stop talkin' about food. Over.”

“Sorry Duck.”

“Apologies Duck.”

“Duuuuuck.” 

“Sorry, Billy took the walky-talky. Over.”

“Figured. Duck over and out.”

Duck rests his head against his desk. He’s so tired. How is it that he’s both bored and stressed? Doesn’t seem fair. 

The door opens, carrying in a gust of cold air, and Duck straightens, preparing to help a winter tourist find their bliss in Manogahela. 

A tall figure wrapped in many coats kicks the door shut, as it looks at him through red glasses. 

“You’re a fuckin' angel.”

“Too few wings and eyes for that.” Indrid smiles as he hands Duck a thermos.

“I’m startin' to think you’re B.Sin' me about not bein' psychic. We fuckin' ran out of coffee here at the station and here you are.”

Indrids smile falters. 

“I came because the likelihood of the abomination appearing today is high. I’m not sure when, so I thought I’d join Aubrey on her stakeout in case it happens during the day. I figured you could use some extra coffee while I was here. It gave me an excuse to see you.” The last few words come out softer than the others. 

Duck’s still processing that statement when Indrid takes his face in his hands and kisses him. 

“I should go. Be careful.”

“Uh yeah, you, uh, you be careful too.”

Indrid gives him one last smile and then he’s gone out the door. 

Duck is left holding the thermos while a host of emotions tumble about inside him. What is he going to do, about Indrid and whatever this thing between them is becoming, about the abomination lurking somewhere nearby, about the fact that he has people in his life who care about him enough to fight what’s lurking out there? What is he supposed to do?

Hell, what does he want to do?

He stares at the thermos as if it has answers. 

\------------------------------------

 

Between Indrids visions, Mamas tracking skills, and Ducks knowledge of the woods, they triangulate the most likely spot for the abomination. Which is how Duck finds himself pacing back and forth in a clearing near the road, the rest of the Pine Guard stationed in various hiding spots nearby. He sees Ned and Aubrey, crouched behind a log, who give him a thumbs up. He keeps glancing at Indrid, who’s perched on a low branch. He’s had that far away look in his eyes for what feels like hours, and Duck knows it’s so that he can maybe help them get the drop on the abomination. But he wishes Indrid would see him just for a moment. Maybe even smile at him. Just in case this is the last time Duck sees any of them. 

He should go offer Indrid his jacket, the man is visibly shivering.

Indrids gaze suddenly snaps towards him.

“Behind you, thirty seconds!”

Duck draws Beacon, turns.

“Duck Newton, at last you have chosen to focus your energy on something other than making the beast with two”

“Beacon, now is not the time.”

The sound of cracking brush, followed by a choking, gurgling noise, drags closer.

The abomination steps into the clearing. 

It’s vaguely humanoid form, oozing grey-black-green, stands before him. Staring at him, one eye brown, the other blue. 

It screams with that same gurgle and charges. Duck moves to attack, but before he can a shape darts past him, bleating furiously. 

Billy hits the abomination head on, knocking it back slightly before it grabs and flings him into a tree trunk. 

“Told you bringin that goat was a bad idea” Mama shouts, stepping from behind a tree and firing a shotgun blast at the creature.

The blast hits, sending slivers of the abomination splintering off. It whirls towards Mama with a roar, takes two hits to the back from the Narf Blaster as Ned emerges from the bushes behind it. It hesitates before rushing Mama, only for Barclay to emerge from its left and leave a dent in it with his axe.

 

It stops for a moment, leans forward, and Indrids warning cry comes two seconds before the abomination swings a massive branch towards its attackers, catching both Mama and Barclay in the ribs. It turns towards Ned, who takes several steps backwards. Aubrey appears from the shadows behind him, small flame in her hand.

“Hey, you’re after me, remember?” Duck shouts, and the creature turns towards him. He lets it get as close as he dares before whipping Beacon around its center, yanking the blade tight. It doesn’t slice, merely sticks. 

The creature pulls and Duck is nearly brought to the ground, so he musters all his strength and pulls (and pulls and pulls) backwards the abomination fighting him for every inch. 

Aubrey screams some kind of warning just as Duck realized he’s pulled the abomination and himself into the road. Two headlights barrel towards him. 

His vision. He braces himself. There’s the expected squeal of breaks and crunch of metal, but he feels no impact. 

The car is stopped two feet from him, courtesy of Indrid who has just landed on its hood, wings outstretched. Duck gives one more massive tug and he and the abomination stumble into the woods on the other side of the road. 

He unravels Beacon from the creature to point him at it.

“Right, I’m gonna say this once”

Before he finishes, a whip of green black shoots off from the abomination and wraps around his waist. 

“Fuck.”

It’s dragging him forward, and no matter how he digs in his heels he’s still moving, feet scrabbling on the snowy ground. He hacks at the tendril with Beacon, only coming away with chunks. 

Something grabs him from behind, long arms encircling his waist.

Indrid, no longer in his Sylvan form. 

The abomination is stalled, but Duck knows it can do this longer than they can. Wait until one of them falters, then wrench them both into it’s oozing mass. 

A shotgun cocks, and then he sees Mama enter the clearing. 

“Aubrey, as soon as I shoot it, you hit it with everything you got!” She fires, breaks the tendril long enough for Indrid to pull Duck out of it’s grip and they both fall to the ground. Duck sees the fireball forming at the abominations feet, and then he’s surrounded by wings as a wave of heat flashes outwards. Burning pine needles, fur, and something noxious fills his nose. 

After a moment, Indrid drops his wings from shielding Duck, and is back to his human self before he’s all the way stood up. Mama’s been knocked onto the ground from the blast, and Aubrey is laying in the snow several feet away.

“Aubrey?”

She sits up, shakes the snow from her head. 

“Holy shit, that was so cool!”

The four of them peer out to the road, where Ned and Barclay are speaking with owner of the car, a young-ish man wearing glasses. 

“Aw beans, the hood's completely totaled! I’m supposed to meet up with my brothers tonight! What the fuck was that thing?”

“A Sandhill Crane, we get them much larger here than anywhere else. I’ve been trying to tell the chamber of commerce to add it to their list of warnings for travelers in this area but, well, local politics and all that.” Ned offers sympathetically. Barclay nods in solemn agreement.

“Yep, a buddy of mine had one take out his windshield last spring.”

“Listen son, since you’re in such a tight spot, why don’t you come back into town with me and we can call an excellent car repair man I know. You can stay at the Cryptonomica and take in all the wonders it has to offer while you wait for your siblings to come to your aid.”

For once, Duck is grateful that Ned is so full of shit. 

\-------------

It’s only when they arrive home that Duck realizes something is wrong. Ned and Barclay had helped the distressed motorist into town, while Mama (grudgingly) took Billy back to lodge with her and Aubrey, leaving him and Indrid alone. 

As Indrid shucks his various layers, Duck notices him wincing and hissing whenever he thinks Duck is out of earshot. 

He hadn’t smelled burnt fur in the woods; it was burnt feathers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Duck plays doctor, Indrid has a bright idea, and Stern continues to have bad timing.
> 
> Update 12/20: I continue to be thrilled at how much people are liking this! Updates may slow over the next few days, but don't fret, there are more chapters coming.


	12. ..To be showing up like this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duck soothes a burn. Indrid sees trouble. Aubrey gets a smooch.

Duck’s seen worse burns than this, from people getting too close to campfires or touching old school lanterns, the kind with glass instead of plastic. 

So why does he feel sick to his stomach?

Indrid sits cross-legged on the floor of the bathroom while Duck perches on the edge of the tub, rifling through his first-aid kit. It occurs to him that this is the first time he’s seen Indrid shirtless (he’s kept at least the tank top on every time they’ve fooled around), and he has a painful hunch as to why.

The new burns, one each on the right shoulder blade, right arm, and left wrist, aren’t the only marks on Indrids skin. Scars criss-cross his back, a map of a history Duck has yet to learn. 

“It’s because of my wings.”

“Excuse me?” Duck looks up, hand still rooting around for the roll sterile pads. It’s the first thing Indrid’s said since they got home. He allowed Duck to shoo him into the bathroom without a word. 

“You’re about to ask why I have so many scars. The simple answer is that my wings are the part of me most prone to injury given their size relative to the world around them, and when they’re injured it tends to show the most on my back. I assume it has to do with mapping my human form over my Sylph one.”

Duck can’t find the words he wants to say, uncaps the small bottle of burn cream.

“This might sting a bit.” He starts with the mark on the shoulder, Indrid winces under his hands. He works quick, gets the burn on the arm done as well. 

“Can you turn a bit so I can get the one on your wrist?”

Indrid obliges, turns sideways and offers Duck his other arm. Duck takes his left hand, gently. Indrid doesn’t look up, doesn’t intertwine their fingers, doesn’t give any sign that he’s even really there in the room at all. It could be he’s seeing futures, but most of the time he does that his face is placid, almost blank. It’s not that now. 

Duck patches up the burned wrist. Then he pulls Indrids hand a bit closer, brings it to his lips, kisses each knuckle in turn. 

Indrid blinks at him, startled. Blinks again, more rapidly. It’s then Duck sees both his cheeks are wet. 

“Oh shit Indrid, I’m sorry.” He’s not sure what he’s sorry for, just that he is. He gives a small tug, which is all it takes for Indrid to press his face into Ducks chest, compressing all his limbs as close to himself as possible. He’s shaking, making no sounds aside from small sniffs. That’s somehow more worrisome to Duck than if he were sobbing. He releases Indrids hand in favor of wrapping both arms around him, stroking his hair and trying to think of something (oh god anything, anything at all) to say. 

“I should’ve seen it coming sooner, it nearly got you, nearly hurt my friends, and I turned into my Sylph form like a fool and someone saw and now you all have to deal with that on top of everything else and it’s only a matter of time before people start talking and I’ll have to leave and it’s all my fault” the words come out in a flood, muffled by Indrid speaking into Ducks shirt. He tries replying but Indrid continues.

“I haven’t had this for so long, not just you but the others, people who listen to me and try to stop disasters from happening. I’ve spent so long, tried so many times and it almost never works, and then people think it’s my fault, and it is in that I can see it before they can but they never listen and you all listen, and you’re nice to me and I don’t want to leave and it’s all my fault for not keeping you out of the road and, and and.”

Duck pulls him closer. 

“Hey now, only room for one of us to feel guilty for puttin' everyone else in danger, and I’m afraid I called that spot this mornin'. Ain’t your fault my fool self didn’t remember my vision until I was standin' in the middle of the damn road. And you ain’t goin' anywhere; if Mama can keep the folks at the lodge from gettin' found out, we can do the same for you.” Indrids breathing his coming a little slower. A small furry head pokes through the gap in the bathroom door, and Millie wiggles her way in, headbutting Indrids legs until he makes room for her in his lap. 

“See, even my cat likes you. Means I gotta keep you around.”

Indrid hiccups a small laugh, relaxes slightly in Ducks arms. Duck stays silent, letting Indrid calm down at his own pace

At last Indrid settles back into his normal posture, looks up at Duck.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean for it all to come out quite like that.”

Duck reaches out, brushes back Indrids hair.

“I get it. Believe me, I may not be the world’s most emotionally open guy, but I get it.” He kisses Indrid on the forehead, and is relieved when a small, familiar hum echoes through the room.

A little while later, after they’ve both washed the remnants of the fight away, Duck climbs into bed next to Indrid, who seems to be crumpling more drawings than he makes.

“I have an idea on how to handle Stern.” He doesn’t look up, but it’s clear he knows Duck is there. 

“I think it will work. But it’s going to take everyone. And I mean everyone.”

\-----------------------------------

“Let me make sure I’m followin' here; you’re gonna make goatboy here look like Bigfoot?” Mama doesn’t sound convinced, nor does she sound particularly happy.

“Precisely. If we can have him go past when Duck and Stern are talking, it will remove suspicion from Duck. It doesn’t help Barclay necessarily, but if it works this time there’s no reason we couldn’t do it again.” Indrid is seated in the safe house, tea in hand, with the rest of the Pine Guard around the table.

“Fine, say we try this plan. Who’s watchin' Ducks ass while this is happening, since the two of you gotta go back to your trailer? That fuckin' this is still out there, far as we know.”

Aubrey says something under her breath and Ned snickers. Duck shoots her a glare; whatever they said it definitely involved Indrids relationship to Ducks ass. Aubrey winks at him before speaking.

“I think it should be me and Mama who stay with Duck. We know fire hurts it, and being shot breaks it up enough to give us a chance to regroup during a fight. That means Ned can go with Indrid and Billy, which is good because Billy likes Ned.”

“That true Ned?” Mama raises an eyebrow.

“Absolutely! We’ve become great compatriots over the last few weeks.”

“Pizzaaaaaaaa!” Billy gives an enthusiastic nod. 

“Fine. Barclay, I’m guessin' you’d like to go with them, steer clear of Stern.”

“Yeah, I’d prefer to stay as far away from him as I can.”

“Let’s get rollin' then, we’re burnin' daylight.”

\-----------

Aubrey knocks on Danis door, Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD, in hand. 

Dani opens it with a smile. 

“Hey, cutie.”

“Eeeh! I mean hi. So, I’m dropping Dr Harris Bonkers off with you for the day. And I just wanted to say that, if something happens to me, I want you to keep him. Jake can help.” She hands the rabbit over.

“I consider that the highest honor. Be careful, please.”

Aubrey shifts from foot to foot. 

“Can, can I have a kiss? For luck?”

Dani kisses her, long enough that Aubrey makes the decision to come out this latest mission alive, just so she can feel that again.

\-----------------

“Right, Barclay, can you keep watch please? Ned, come with Billy so he feels more comfortable.” Indrid steps into trailer and immediately starts flicking on his heaters. 

After some rifling about, he finds a rope necklace and begins working on it. 

“So are you making him look exactly like Barclay?” Ned peers of Indrids shoulder.

“As close as I can. As I understand it, the important thing is for it to match the video Stern saw. There, finished!” He holds up the necklace triumphantly, suddenly goes still. 

“We need to go. Now.” 

“Don’t need to tell me twice my friend, not with that look in your eyes.” Ned says, hustling out the with Billy in tow while yelling.

“Barclay, get the SnowCat started! Shit’s about the hit the proverbial fan”

\---------------------------------------------

 

Duck isn’t panicking. He isn’t. He’s waiting in this grove for Stern. He has fifteen minutes before the agent shows up and starts asking questions. The agent who is trained to spot good liars, let alone terrible ones. As long as Stern only asks if Duck is Bigfoot, they’ll be fine. Totally fine. 

“Good afternoon, Duck.” Agent Stern finishes coming up the path to where Duck is standing.

Of fucking course he’s early. 

“Mornin' Agent Stern, sorry you’ve had such a hard time gettin' a hold of me. Been awful busy with friends and work...stuff.” 

“So I’ve been told. Well, I’m glad we can finally chat.” Stern removes his pen and notebook from his pocket. 

“Now, I know we’ve touched on this before, but how much do you know about Bigfoot?”

“Um, well, I know it’s somethin' folks see a lot in Washington, but Ned’s got some video that he swears is, fuck, real.”

“And do you think it’s real?”

Duck doesn’t get a chance to answer

There’s a gurgling roar from behind them, and then Aubrey is thrown into the clearing, skidding to a stop on her back in the snow. She tries to stand, barely manages to lift her head up to look at Duck.

“I hate to say this, but we have company.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Local bear comforts disaster twink, film at a 11. 
> 
> Next Up: Shit gets real bad, real fast.


	13. The Moon Went to Crescent....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barclay is helpful, Indrid is stuck, and Duck tells the truth.

Duck looks at Stern who is staring, dumbfounded, at Aubrey.

He takes his chance, clocks Stern on the back of the head like he’s seen in the movies. Stern collapses. Sometimes being the chosen one with a side of extra-tough has its benefits. 

The creature enters the grove, and Duck realizes it hasn’t see him because moves straight for Aubrey. He readies Beacon and is about to run forward when he hears Mama addressing the abomination.

“Alright you son of a bitch, you’re gonna stay right where you are. Know how I know? Cause even if this baby can’t kill ya, it hurt you a hell of a lot last time and I don’t think you’d much like to get shot again.” She’s standing just behind Aubrey, who’s finally made it to her feet, shotgun poised to fire. 

The abomination stops, notice Duck behind it, turns.

“Uh uh, you’re ain’t goin' near him neither. Between me, him, and the Lady Flame here you’re outnumbered.”

An engine rumbles in the distance, the cracking of branches draws nearer, and the SnowCat skids to a stop in the clearing, Ned giving a loud whoop (echoed by Billys bleating). Barclay appears to have been holding on for dear life, and even Indrid looks a bit rattled by the ride. The four tumble out of the vehicle.

“Now you’re real outnumbered.” Mama smiles, but it doesn’t move past her mouth, and Duck understands that she’s bluffing. It took them all on at once before. It could easily do so again. But it does seem to be listening to her, which means he might be able to reason with it. 

“Alright, listen. I’m gettin' awful sick of waitin' around for you to find me, and I’ll bet you’re gettin' sick of trackin' me down. And your odds ain’t lookin' too good. So here’s what I propose: you let us escort you back to the gate, you go through it, then you never bother us again. Do that, and we won’t be forced to light your ass on fire and whatnot. Deal?”

The abomination rotates in a complete circle, as if calculating just how many of them are surrounding it, until it’s once again facing Duck. It’s then he hears Indrid muttering to his left.

“Oh no.”

Without looking away from him the abomination whips a part of itself outward to wrap around Inrid, yanking him to the ground at its feet. Barclay and Ned both grab for him as it happens, each a second too slow.

The tendril of ooze coils around Indrids waist and arms, twisting him onto his back so the abomination can plant one foot on his chest. 

“Indrid!” Duck reaches forward before he can stop himself. And then the abomination does the worst thing imaginable.

It grins, black-grey-green ooze dripping from the corners of the gaping mouth.

Raising one arm, it produces a shape in its hand that looks like a grotesque mirror image of Beacon and swings downwards. 

Halfway through the air, the arm freezes, reveres direction slightly as if forced by a strong wind. Duck looks to Aubrey, whose hands are outstretched, eyes shut in concentration. She pulls one hand towards her and the abominations arm jerks back, away from Indrid. 

“Any time you want to stab it would be great!” She yells as the abomination roars and tries to throw its arm forward, Aubrey sliding several inches closer to it. It repeats the motion and Aubrey starts falling, only for Ned to rush across the clearing and brace against her, keeping her on her feet.

“Duck, for fucks sake do something!” 

The panic in Neds voice finally unfreezes Ducks feet and he steps towards the abomination,

It fixes him with an almost curious expression, before opening it’s mouth once again.

"Why?”

\---------------------------------------------------------------

Earlier that day, Duck is rehearsing his answers to Sterns questions (Indrid provided him with a list of the ones that were the most likely) in the safe house when Barclay steps through the door. 

“Feeling any more prepared?”

“I little I guess, fuck, I mean, sorta, fuck. No”

Barclay gives a sympathetic laugh.

“I feel you buddy, it took me a long time to get good at lying. Not everybody can be a born bullshitter like Ned.”

Barclay glances over at the monitor for the panic room, before looking back at Duck and holding up a small journal. 

“So, I looked into Thackers journals in case there was anything that could plausibly help us stop the thing that’s chasing you, or tell us why it’s here or what it wants.”

“Find anythin'? Cause I’m gettin' kinda desperate if I’m bein' honest.”

“Funny you should use that word.” Barclay turns to a page marked with a bunny post-it note (courtesy of Aubrey) and shows it to Duck.

“Strike true?”

“Exactly. According to Thacker, there’s a form of abomination that selects the target it feels is most vulnerable to self-doubt or self-delusion, and can break a part of itself off to pursue it, picking up some of the traits of the target along the way. It picked you, and those two words are how you get it to leave you be. And as far as I can tell, only you can stop it because of the mechanism of this particular magic. The rest of us can just hurt it. I’m going to tell the others what I found, but I thought you deserved to hear it first.”

“Sooo, all I gotta do is hit it with Beacon as accurately and determinedly as possible?”

Barclay shakes his head.

“I doubt it. That’s too easy, and abominations don’t generally die easily.”

Duck slumps down into a chair. 

“What the fuck am I’m gonna do?”

\-----------------------------

Strike true.

“Why?” The abomination gurgles again, pressing it’s foot hard enough into Indrids chest that he yelps. He tries to say something else, something to Duck, but another strand of ooze covers his mouth. Indrid glares at the abomination. 

Okay, it want to knows why he’s doing this. At least that’s what he’d ask someone who was attacking him. 

He looks at Indrid, wishes he could say it was for him, but he knows that if it was anyone else trapped there he’d do the exact same thing. Because he’s a chosen one, he’s supposed to be heroic and noble. He’s supposed to protect his world from danger. He has to. 

Then again.

He could have said no, hell, for many years he did. Fates Plaything or not, he’d chosen the path in life he wanted, didn’t choose to be some hero running around the woods fighting monsters until he was good and ready. And he could turn his back on it if he wanted to. But he doesn’t, because somewhere buried under all that running away is the fact that doing his damnedest to save the world makes him feel like the person he wants to be. 

He takes one more step.

“Why?” The creature yanks its trapped arm forward and he hears Ned and Aubrey straining to hold on.

He extends Beacon, brings the point of the sword to rest against the chest of the abomination.

“Because I chose this. I want to do this.”

A burst of light, the sound of a firework exploding, and then Duck is flat on his back, looking at the treetops, which are rapidly replaced by the worried, then relieved, face of Indrid Cold. 

“You did it.”

Duck has a dozen dry comments he wants to make, casts them aside in favor of pulling Indrid down into the longest kiss he can manage.

“Ahem.” Ned clears his throat. 

Duck turns bright red as Indrid begins to laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go before the end of this fic (there will be more stories after)!
> 
> Next up: Billy helps, Indrid cleans up, and Duck reflects on his fate.


	14. ...We Started to Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy creates a diversion, Barclay makes tea, and Indrid gets a pet name.

Duck pulls his hat down over his face. Goddamit, he was trying so hard not let folks find out about him and Indrid, because they hadn’t talked yet about whether they wanted anyone else to know. 

Given how hard Indrid is laughing, he isn’t terribly bothered, but still.

“Whelp, guess that cat’s out of the bag.” Duck mumbles through his hat.

“Raise your hand if this is not at all surprisin' to you.” Mama asks, and Duck peeks out to see the consensus. 

Everyone's hand is raised, including Billys. 

“Duck, you two are ‘bout as subtle as a bag of hammers.” Mama smiles at him, while Ned gives him a thumbs up and Barclay tries very hard not to laugh. Aubrey is slumped against a tree, exhausted, but is making a high-pitched, joyful noise. 

Stern stirs slightly, groans, and everyone goes dead quiet. 

“I knocked out a federal agent. Fuck, shit, people go to jail for that kind of shit!” Duck is shout-whispering at this point. Indrid jumps to his feet.

“Okay, like we planned. Ned, get Billy ready, Barclay, break off that branch. Aubrey, are you up for being the interruption or do you need me to?”

“Totally up fooooookay maybe not.” Aubrey tries to stand and immediately sits back down. 

“C’mon kiddo, let’s get you back to the lodge. You boys gonna be okay without us competent women to bail your asses out?” 

“Probably.” Barclay answers, arranging a branch next to Stern. 

By the time Agent Stern comes-to, Duck is kneeling over him, pretending to talk into his work walky-talkie. 

“Yeah, Juno, cancel that medic for now, he’s wakin' up. I’ll check him and see if he needs to go to a doc.” 

Stern sits up slowly, brushing himself off while staring intently at Duck.

“What, praytell, just happened?”

“One of the common dangers of bein' out in the forest this time of year. Snow weighs down the tree-branches, and sometimes they can’t quite take the strain and crack. One of them got you pretty good.” Duck indicates the large branch lying next to Stern. 

“I see. And I suppose a branch also threw Ms. Little into the clearing with us?”

“No sir, it was uh, them damn, uh, Hornets. Local gang of hooligans, do people still use that word, that have been causin' trouble in the woods. Aubrey got into a bit of a to-do with one of 'em a few weeks back. Guy saw her out hikin' and rammed her with a snowmobile.”

“Where is she now?”

“At the lodge, recuperatin'. She’s a tough one. Speakin' of, mind if I take a look at your head? If you got a concussion we oughta get you to St Francis.”

“You do realize, Duck, that none of this is what I came to talk to you about.”

“Oh, sorry. You were askin' me about Bigfoot.” Any time the others wanted to show up would be great. 

“Yes I was asking if you had any thoughts as to whether or not he is in the area.”

Crunching in the snow.

“Hello Duck. Oh, hello Agent Stern! Goodness, what happened here?” Indrid appears beside Duck, looking appropriately worried. 

“I had a run-in with mother nature, but I seem to be fine. Nice to see you again, Mr Cold. I’m afraid I wasn’t to find the contact you told me about. Isn’t that strange?” A current of ice runs through Sterns pleasant tone. 

“Oh well, you know how these things go.” Indrid smiles, pats Duck on the shoulder.

“I hope you don’t mind if I steal Duck for a bit do you? He’s offered to help me plan out some backpacking routes for the summer at the station, but if you’re still chatting I can some back later.”

“I was under the impression you were just visiting.”

“I’ve decided to extend my stay. There are parts of Kepler that I want to explore in depth.”

Snapping twigs come from the distance behind Indrid, who seems not to notice them. Duck sees a distinct, ape-shaped form in the woods.

“Uhhhh, Agent Stern? You were askin' me what Bigfoot looks like. It kinda looks like that.” Duck points and Stern pivots, alert. His eyes widen.

“Gentlemen, please excuse me.” He dashes off in the direction of the entity.

Duck waits until Stern is out of earshot.

“We sure he a'int gonna catch up to Billy?”

“Positive. Ned was to have Billy walk where we could see him, then hide and turn back to his Ryan Gosling form, then they were to hightail it back to the lodge on the SnowCat before Stern even got to where 'Bigfoot' first appeared.”

There’s a rumble of machinery in the distance and Duck here’s one, triumphant word.

“Pizzaaaaaa!”

\------------------------------------------

Aubrey is stretched out on her bed, recuperating from the fight. Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD, is stretched alongside her, head resting on her shoulder. 

There’s a knock at the door, and a familiar voice calls out, “room service!”

“Door’s open! I can’t really stand up right now, too tired!”

Dani maneuvers the door open while carrying a tray containing a pot of tea, two cups, and an enormous salad. She places the tray carefully on the bed before sitting down herself. 

“Barclay made the salad, says it’ll help you recover. It’s got kale and a bunch of other healthy stuff in for vitamins and whatnot.”

Aubrey pats the bed next to her (the side not occupied by a giant rabbit) and Dani lays down, snuggling up next to her. 

“I’m so tired, I’m going to sleep until spring.” Aubrey yawns.

“Food first, then you can hibernate. I thought we could cuddle and watch T.V until you fell asleep, if that sounds good.”

Aubrey smiles at her.

“That sounds amazing.”

\-----------------------------------------------------

The next day, Duck is slowly putting together his things as he gets ready to leave work. He’s sluggish, sadder than makes sense. Maybe it’s the comedown from not being hunted anymore, maybe it’s the winter blues.

Maybe it’s the fact he slept alone last night. 

After all the excitement at the lodge had passed, Indrid went back to his Winnebago, saying he had a few things he needed to deal with and that he’d see Duck soon.

He worries about that all the way home; that Indrid had simply hit upon a means of keeping him calm while they dealt with the abomination and, now that the crisis had passed, he’s no longer interested in Duck that way. Duck can’t say he blames him.

As he swings the door to the house open, here notices two things: Millie is not loudly voicing her need for dinner and there is definitely someone splashing around in the bathroom.

He’s about to ask what the fuck is going on when Indrids voice drifts out to him.

“Oh good, you’re home! I fed Millie, and I hope you don’t mind but I took the liberty of using your bathtub. I got rather dusty today.”

Duck reaches the bathroom door as Indrid finishes speaking, and finds the taller man in the tub covered by what seems to be a foot of bubbles. From the smell of it, he’s bought some sort of gingerbread scented bubble bath. 

“I thought you’d left.”

“I did, but I realize now my exit had more finality to it than I meant it to. I simply needed to get the trailer slightly more organized (I accidentally overturned some very old boxes, hence the getting covered in dust)and then move it to a more convenient location. I need a space of my own after all, although I’d hoped you’d want me to spend lots of time with you. Or, well, I was actually sort of banking on it, as evidenced by my use of your tub.” 

Right, he’s in Ducks tub. Taking a bath. Naked.

Indrid is naked in his house.

Man, awful hot in this bathroom. 

“Well, I’ll uh, I’ll leave you to it.” 

“I’m more than happy to have some company. Not in the bath necessarily, I’m not sure we can both fit. But you’re welcome to tell me about your day.” Indrid shifts, leans forward to rest his arms on the side of the tub. 

“Didn’t get up to much, I gotta say. I spent a lot of the day thinkin' about, well, about you. Rest of it I was thinkin' about why that damn thing picked me. It ain’t like Aubrey don’t doubt herself, and I know enough about Ned to know he’s done some shady shit, which I’d assume would make someone at least a little bit doubtful about bein' a good person. Even asked Barclay last night if Thackers journal gave any suggestions as to what made me most susceptible to it. His best guess was that I’m older’n Aubrey, so I’ve got more of it built up in my system, and Ned’s maybe only started really doubtin' his own world view in the last ten years or so, if that, so he’s got less than I do too. Hell, maybe it’s due to the fact I’ve been denyin' the whole chosen one thing for decades.”

“You also take more convincing.” Indrid offers, staring at Duck thoughtfully. 

“How so?”

“Well, Ned is a good enough liar that he can convince himself of a lot, makes it a bit easier to balance the parts of himself that would otherwise be in conflict. And Aubrey, even if she doubts herself sometimes, is more often than not very set in her decisions. You have a harder time with both those things, so sometimes you deny or doubt things that you want or that you believe. Gracious, I did basically everything except a mating dance to indicate my interest in you and I still had to make the first move.”

“Guess that makes sense, wait, you had a matin' dance planned?”

“If it came to that yes. But it was decidedly a last resort.” Indrid reclines in the tub, sighing contentedly. His relaxation is contagious, and Duck finds himself worrying less and less about the workings of the abomination, at least for the moment. 

“I’m gonna go get out of my work duds.”

Indrid gives a small noise of acknowledgement, and Duck leaves him to his bath.

He makes the error of sitting down amidst changing, and finds the idea of standing back up to exhausting. Which is why he’s sitting on the edge of the bed in his boxers and undershirt when Indrid pads into the the room with a large, fluffy, pink and yellow towel around his waist. 

“You had dinner yet?” he asks as Indrid rustles around in duffel bag he’s plunked over on his side of the bed. 

“If six Capri Suns count, then yes. If not, then no.”

“I was thinkin' I’d order some take-out oh hello.” Indrid is suddenly kneeling in front of Duck, rubbing his thigh fondly. 

“Fine by me, although there is something I’d like to do prior to dinner if you’re, ahem, up for it.” He leans forward kissing Duck on the cheek, then quickly on the lips. Duck grins.

“Can’t you guess, my darlin' magic eight ball?”

Indrid raises an eyebrow.

“That’s the best comparison you could come up with? The mechanism of my foresight is far more complicated.” He kisses Duck again, nipping at his lower lip as he pulls away.

“I kinda like it as a pet name for you. So, what’d you have in mind?”

“Reply hazy, ask again later.”

“I walked right into that.”

“That you did.” Indrid opens the hand not lovingly pawing Duck to reveal a condom packet reading “Island Punch.” 

"Oh hell yeah.” Duck kisses him again, harder this time, and Indrids relaxed demeanor switches to something much more determined. He tugs Ducks shirt off, before yanking his boxers down. Duck is about to tease Indrid for being in such a hurry, but then his mouth is all over Ducks cock and Duck is focused solely on gripping the sheets and not making so much noise that a concerned neighbor comes to check on him. 

Mouth occupied, Indrids hands roam across the tops of Ducks thighs, nails grazing gently against the skin. Duck shivers, and Indrid presses harder with one nail, drags it in a pattern down Ducks leg, and hums low in his throat. 

“That mouth is going to be the death me” Duck thinks as he comes. 

Indrid straightens up, gives Duck a kiss that tastes faintly of artificial pineapple. 

“Meow?” Millie stands in the bedroom doorway.

“Whelp, cat’s scarred for life.” Duck laughs, as Indrid stands and walks over to Millie before scooping her up and holding her like a baby.

“She’ll survive, I’m sure. I’ll go bundle her up on the couch, be right back.”

In the time Indrid is gone, Ducks curiosity gets the best of him and he rolls across the bed to peek into the bag Indrid keeps dipping into. Apparently the other man bought half the damn condoms in town. 

Time to introduce him to another “human courtship” behavior.

Duck pats the bed next to him when Indrid re-enters the room (taking care to close the door this time).

“C’mere, got somethin' to show you.”

“It’s only because I can see a few moments ahead that I know that’s not a euphemism for a body part.” Indrid grins as he crawls next to Duck before laying on his back. 

“Like this?”

“Not quite, this has gotta come off.” Duck unties the towel from Indrids waist, takes a moment to enjoy the sight before him; lanky, pale frame, with a blush creeping up it to a singular looking face, as Indrid runs a hand self-consciously through his hair.

“Is it what you’d hoped for?”

“That and a lot fuckin' more” Duck kisses Indrid on the neck, does it again when he’s rewarded with a soft chirp. 

“I’m gonna start out slow, if it gets to be too much you tell me, ‘kay?”

“Yes.”

Duck sits back, slips a condom onto his finger and squeezes lube onto it until some falls onto the towel. 

He leans forward again, bracing on one elbow as his other arm reaches between Indrids legs, and the taller man tilts his hips up to help Duck find what he’s looking for. Duck slips the first finger in, kissing Indrid as he does, catching the resulting small moan in his mouth. 

“Good?”

Indrids nods his head with an eager whine. Duck shifts his finger back and forth a bit, and Indrid squirms with a pleased chirp-moan. 

After a few more moments, Duck adds a second finger, then a third. By the time he’s at four, Indrid has both arms wrapped around him and is alternating being kissing his lips and biting whatever exposed skin he can reach. Duck curls each finger experimentally until he finds the spot he’s looking for, and Indrid whimpers into his shoulder. 

“Do that again, please please please againAH!” One arm unwinds from Ducks back, and he feels Indrids hand brush against his stomach as he begins jacking himself off in time with Ducks movements. 

“That’s it darlin'.” Duck runs a line of kisses across Indrids collarbone, whispering encouragements as he feels Indrid tense underneath and around him with a final groan. 

He removes his hand carefully as Indrid relaxes, kisses him on the cheek. 

And notices that they both have lube and cum on a variety of body parts. Yeesh. 

He looks back at Indrid, who is lying contentedly with his eyes shut and a blissed-out look on his face. 

Worth it. 

They clean up, order dinner, and play with Millie a bit before heading to bed for real. Indrid elects to be the little spoon, so Duck curls up behind him and wraps an arm across his chest. He mumbles a goodnight, hears Indrid reply in kind before taking hold of his hand. As he falls asleep, he feels Indrid carefully lift his hand and kiss it before nestling deeper into the blankets. 

Who knew falling off a cliff could end so well?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! I'm so glad folks enjoyed this story. I have a number of smaller stories for this same series that will come next (if you want hints for some of them, look at what Aubrey thinks about when she's in the tree).

**Author's Note:**

> I'm assuming Aubrey takes her glasses off around the rest of the guard, as well as Jake and Dani. If she's around anyone else, assume she's wearing them.
> 
> Questions, comments, requests? Find me at Inevitable Indruck: https://thiswasinevitableid.tumblr.com/


End file.
